


Tables Turned

by ArtemisRayne



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991)
Genre: F/M, Magic, Unofficial Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-04
Updated: 2007-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 20:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 38,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/714975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisRayne/pseuds/ArtemisRayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whatever happened to the enchantress who laid a curse upon the castle? What if she was also forced to find love before her twenty-first year? Under a very similar curse, she is forced to seek love in the first man she encounters in the mortal world, but you will never guess who the lucky man is...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What Goes Around...

Footsteps echoed down the corridor and a white granite hawk shuffled behind the safety of a large decorative vase. Dull stone eyes peered around its edge, searching for the approaching being. The sound of a repetitive click coupled with a faster thumping fell on the bird's ears and it relaxed.

A faint glow became visible down the hall and the hawk moved towards it, talons clicking lightly on the stone. Soon the rumble of voices was audible; one high and frantic, the other deep and heavily accented. The sound of steps ceased as the voices grew more serious. The hawk's pace quickened until she could see where the two characters had halted.

The glow was coming from a golden candelabrum whose three candles were lit. His arms were crossed and he scowled as he gazed at his companion. Next to him stood a mantle clock, chiding the candlestick in frantic tones.

"You know as well as I that there is nothing we could do," the clock said fervently.

"I still think we should go after her," the candlestick grumbled in reply. "She's our last chance, Cogsworth."

"I know that," Cogsworth the clock sighed. "But if the spell is to be broken she must love him in return. That is something she must do on her own. We would be of no use, Lumière. Besides, even if we could do something, we wouldn't be able to reach her in time. It is a long way to her home, made all the longer by the fact that neither of us stands over a foot tall."

"The girl has escaped then?" the hawk asked, stepping into the light of Lumière's candles. Both men jumped.

"Ella, must you sneak up on us like that?" Cogsworth asked exasperatedly, a hand over the pendulum case where his heart should have been.

"My apologies," the bird replied slyly, "but it is no fault of mine that clocks have no ears." Cogsworth scowled, but not angrily; as cheeky as she could be, he had always enjoyed the girl's company. "So the girl finally escaped, did she?"

"Hardly," Lumière said with a hollow laugh. "He let her go."

"He did?" Ella asked, her gaze turning to Cogsworth. The clock nodded. "Unbelievable! Why would he do such a thing?"

"Because he loves her," Cogsworth said solemnly.

The hawk tilted her head pensively. "So he's finally done it then," she said. "Remarkable."

"Indeed," Lumière agreed. "But she is now on her way home and far from this castle."

"And we must simply wait to see if she returns." Cogsworth sighed again. "If not, well then all is lost."

"Ella, you are a bird," Lumière said on sudden inspiration. "You could fly to her and–"

"I'm made of stone, Lumière," Ella cut across him. "I can fly no better than you." The candlestick sighed in defeat and all three of his flames extinguished, casting the trio into darkness.

"Lumière!" Cogsworth growled and the lights returned.

" _Pardonez-moi_ ," Lumière said saucily. Then his voice softened. "I was just disappointed."

"I'm sorry, I really wish I could've helped," Ella said gently, "but there is nothing any of us can do but hope."

"It is difficult to sit by and do nothing when the master's birthday is but a few days away," Lumière groaned, anxiety heavy on his face.

"It may be difficult," Ella stated, "but it must be done. I have faith that she will return."

"I hope you are right, for all our sake's," Lumière said slowly. Cogsworth nodded in agreement.

" _Oh_   _Lumière_." The call echoed down the corridor far ahead of its speaker and a faint grin crept back onto the candlestick's face.

"Ah, if you will  _excusez-mo_ i," Lumière said with a cheeky grin. As he turned away from the group Cogsworth rolled his eyes. Soon the sound of Lumière's hopping faded away, although not before they heard a female's playful shriek.

"I think I will retire as well," Ella said with a laugh. "Although perhaps not in the same fashion as Lumière."

Cogsworth chuckled. "Good night, Ella."

"Keep your hopes up," Ella said comfortingly. Cogsworth smiled in response and continued to walk down the hall in his awkward way. As he was passing out of her line of sight she heard his voice echoing back to her as he sang softly to himself.

" _To be human again, only human again, when the girl finally sets us all free…_ "

Ella sighed at his longing and then hurried into a nearby room. Once inside she closed the door with her stony wing and then swiftly resumed her actual appearance. Pale granite gave way to smooth brown skin, white hair blossomed from her head in waves, and limbs twisted and reshaped until a beautiful young woman stood in place of the stone creature. For you see, Ella was truly the enchantress Tryamon, the very enchantress who had cast a spell over this castle nearly a decade prior.

Tryamon leaned her back against the door, her face contorted with grief. She had enjoyed pretending to be one of the castle's ensorcelled servants during the last decade and mingling with the other objects to see how things were progressing. The words of Cogsworth's song echoed painfully in her mind. She had grown fond of the castle's inhabitants and regretted having cursed them all. If there was anything she had learned during her visits, it was that the serving staff were all loving people despite working for such a cruel master. Her curse had been rash and she wished now that she could take it back. When the young village girl, Belle, had arrived at the castle she had hoped that she might break the curse, but now she was gone.

"Oh, what to do?" the enchantress muttered to herself.

A fierce tugging sensation formed in the pit of her stomach and the world before her blackened. Within seconds colour slowly began to seep out of the darkness and Tryamon found herself in an entirely different place. A groan of annoyance on her lips, she turned around. Sitting in a polished wooden chair, a frustrated scowl dominating his face to match her own, was her summoner.

"Father, you know that if you simply call, I will come," Tryamon grumbled. "It is quite discomforting to be simply plucked from a place without so much as a warning."

"Then you should not be gallivanting around in the human world," her father responded, his frown still in place. Tryamon sometimes wondered if he was actually capable of smiling, since she had yet to see him do it.

"Was there a reason for your unannounced summons?" the young enchantress asked sourly. Most often when he requested her presence it was to punish her and she had learned long ago not to raise her hopes.

"Indeed, there was," her father said and his lips twitched slightly but still did not manage a smile. "Someone very important has come to see you."

As if waiting for a cue – which was most likely true, based on her father's love of dramatics – the door to the room opened. Through it strode a sight that made the enchantress' heart stop with horror. The man who entered was astonishingly attractive, with an angular face, black hair and the brightest green eyes. Had Tryamon not known who he was, she would have been interested. Unfortunately, she knew him.

"Alkyl," she said in surprise.

"Tryamon," the man replied. "It is good to see you well."

The enchantress wished she could say the same, but honestly she rather hoped he would drop dead on the spot.

"You are well past the age to wed," her father informed her. "Alkyl's work has kept him far from here, but now that he has returned your betrothal may proceed."

"I cannot marry him!" Tryamon shouted. "I don't love him."

"Love?" her father asked cynically. "This mortal sensation you speak of so much? It is ridiculous. We of magic are above such things."

"I'm not, Father," Tryamon protested. "I have seen it and I refuse to wed someone who I have no feelings for."

Her father sighed heavily. Tryamon had unfortunately been born with her mother's heart and determination. She would need to be coerced into this marriage the same way. "How can we settle this? A bargain perhaps?"

"What?" Alkyl gasped. "Cyrix, what are you doing?"

"Silence," Cyrix barked. "I know what I am doing." He returned his attention to Tryamon. "What was the last spell you cast involving this –  _love_?"

Tryamon hesitated a moment before answering, unsure of her father's intentions. "That he must learn to love someone, and earn their love in return, before his twenty-first birthday."

"Perfect," Cyrix said, his lips fidgeting slightly again. "Here is my offer to you: I will send you into the mortal world with a task. You must earn the love of the first man you encounter, and learn to love this man as well, before your twenty-first birthday. If you do I will release you from this marriage and let you do as you wish. If you do not, you must return here and marry Alkyl without complaint."

Tryamon and Alkyl both tried to argue but Cyrix overruled them both.

"Also, you may reveal to no one that you are of magic or use your magic on this man. This is the only offer I will extend. Take it or leave it."

Tryamon contemplated the proposal before her. She could not fall in love with just any man, but she was willing to try almost anything to escape this betrothal. Anything but relinquish her immortality and magic. That was one sacrifice she could not make for anything.

"But I turn twenty-one in just a few months," Tryamon pointed out. "That hardly seems like enough time."

"Take it or leave it," her father repeated.

"Only on the condition that I choose where in the mortal world I appear," Tryamon demanded.

"Fair enough," Cyrix nodded.

The enchantress thought over the deal one last time, searching for some hidden technicality her father might have cleverly disguised. "Fine, I accept."

This time a genuine smile crossed her father's face and Tryamon decided instantly that she preferred his scowl. "Then until your birthday, daughter," Cyrix said with the haughty air of a man guaranteed victory.

Tryamon closed her eyes and felt herself travelling through the black void again. She opened them when she felt gentle rain tickling her skin. She was standing on a lower balcony of the castle she had so recently departed, although here several days would have passed since she'd gone. Time moved so much more quickly here than in the world of the Immortals.

A clamour of shouts came from above and Tryamon looked up. On a tower a few levels higher, two people were fighting savagely. A woman's cry split the night air and the enchantress felt her heart leap. So Belle had returned after all.

Suddenly one of the men tumbled over the edge of the tower. His hands reached out desperately for something to save him until they latched onto the railing of the very balcony Tryamon stood upon. Fearing that this man might be the prince and not wishing him to die with his freedom so near, the enchantress grabbed his hands and helped him onto the balcony. But when she looked into his face, Tryamon knew it was not Prince Adam.

Abruptly remembering the bargain, she turned her eyes away but it was too late. She felt the magic settle inside of her as the seal was locked. The man whose love she must earn, and the man she must learn to love, was none other than the great Gaston.


	2. The Enchantress Meets her Match

The hunter lay on his back on the balcony floor as his mind struggled to come to grips with reality. The rain fell on his face as his bold blue eyes surveyed this ethereal being before him.

Her skin was the colour of polished ebony and raindrops glittered on her face like crystals. Ghostly white hair hung to her waist, the same colour as the simple dress she wore. Her coal-black eyes met his for a moment before she quickly turned away.

"Who are you?" Gaston asked weakly. The beautiful woman returned her gaze to him. Light from above shone across her hair, casting a nimbus around her head. "An angel," he gasped, and then his eyes rolled back in his head.

The enchantress gazed at him in confusion, wondering what she had done to affect him so. Tentatively she placed her fingers on the side of his neck and was relieved to feel a steady throbbing. He was still alive, just in a dead faint.

"I have to get you out of this rain," she murmured aloud to him, although he wouldn't hear her. Glancing around to be certain no one was nearby, Tryamon clasped his gloved hand tightly and closed her eyes. For the third time that day she felt the pulling sensation in her torso, but this time her arms groaned as the bulky man was transported with her.

As the feeling passed, Tryamon opened her eyes. They were inside a small camouflaged hut in the forest that edged the castle. The enchantress smiled around at the familiar comfort; this house was where she stayed when she didn't want to go home. It was lightly furnished with a table, chair, and bed.

The hunter groaned softly and Tryamon was brought back to reality. Summoning more strength than her petite body possessed, the enchantress hefted him onto the bed in the corner. She removed his quiver, belt sheath, gloves, and boots. Tryamon giggled to herself when she discovered the hole in the tip of his sock, one long toe protruding through it.

Risking a little more magic, the enchantress conjured up a bowl of water and a rag, which she used to lightly dab the man's forehead. Suddenly he flinched and his eyes opened, instantly fully conscious. He tried to sit up but Tryamon placed a forceful hand on his shoulder, returning him to his prone position.

"Calm yourself, sir," she ordered gently. "You just woke from a great shock. What is your name?"

"Gaston," the hunter replied, eyeing her suspiciously. Who was this girl that didn't know him? Everyone knew him. He was the great Gaston. Although when he thought about it, she certainly didn't look familiar, so it was quite possible that she was from far away. Very far away. "Who are you?"

"My name is Ella," the enchantress answered, remaining true to her dual life at the castle. For now while she could not be the enchantress Tryamon, she would don the nature of servant girl, Ella.

"Where am I?" Gaston asked instantly. "What happened?"

"You are in my cottage," Ella replied. "You fell from a tower, but I helped to save you."

"The tower!" Gaston said abruptly and even Ella's insistent hand could not keep him down. He sat bolt upright as memories flooded back into his consciousness. Fighting the horrid beast on the tower; Belle calling out to the monster; the knife glistening in his hand; falling, falling into darkness; catching hold of the balcony railing; the angel.

"You," he gasped, gazing at the strange girl with new interest. "You were the angel."

"Far from it," Ella said, unable to refrain a sardonic laugh. Gaston paid her no attention, already busy with his own thoughts again.

"Where is Belle?" he inquired sharply.

"Belle?" Ella asked in confusion "At the castle, most likely."

"With the beast," Gaston growled, his face darkened with a mask of rage. Despite Ella's cautionary words, Gaston rose from the bed and began replacing his removed accessories. "She chose that monster over me. Who does she think she is? She was to be my bride! I had everything set and that demon had to take her away from me."

"Belle was supposed to marry you?" Ella asked interestedly. While she knew most of the happenings in the castle, she had heard little of Belle's life before it.

"Yes," Gaston answered, fury slipping into his voice like a poison. "But first she scorned me, publicly humiliated me, and then she ran to protect that monster, almost resulting in my death." Gaston suddenly choked. "I almost died," he gasped, coming to grips with his mortality. It seemed impossible, but the great Gaston had faced death.

"But you lived," Ella assured him, slightly confused by this man's thoughts. "You still have a life to live."

"Yes," Gaston said, swallowing the lump in his throat and nodding thoughtfully. "I am still alive. I still have time for my revenge." And with that he charged towards the door, wrenched it open, and rushed outside.

"That's not what I–!" Ella gasped in exasperation. That was one fault of mortals that annoyed her: their pride and its results, especially this thought of revenge. Gathering her energy, Ella raced out the door after Gaston.

The hunter had already broken from the shelter of the forest and covered quite a distance. Ella ran behind him, impressed that such a bulky man could move so swiftly. "Gaston, wait!" she called out but he paid her no heed. The rain had finally stopped, but it had left a shining and slippery coating on the grass. Ella's bare feet began to grow numb from the chilly water.

As Gaston reached the castle doors, Ella put on an extra spurt of speed. Before she could reach him he had pulled open the door and barged inside. When Ella came through the doors it was to find Gaston standing in the middle of the entrance hall, his deep voice echoing off the stones.

"Beast, come and face me, you coward!" he shouted. Ella dared not move any closer, fearful of this raging fury that seemed to have possessed him. Instead she pressed herself back against the wall, exchanging nervous glances with a few of the other castle's servants that had likewise retreated from the hunter.

At the top of the sweeping staircase appeared a tall man, his strawberry-blonde hair dripping around his face. He was limping slightly and his mouth was set in a pained grimace, but he looked down at the vengeful hunter with a set expression. Next to him walked the beautiful young girl, Belle, her face creased with anxiousness as she saw Gaston.

The hunter gazed up at the young man in anger. He had just opened his mouth to resume shouting when the truth registered in his mind. Gaston staggered back, his face showing nothing but shock.

"No, it's impossible," he cried. "You cannot be the same. You were a monster."

"I was," the young man replied. It took every bit of strength left in the prince's body not to attack the hunter. "But I am no more."

"Then it is now no longer a beast but a man who I must settle with," Gaston voiced, stepping forward.

"We have only one thing to settle," the young man said sternly. "You are trespassing on my grounds. If you promise to leave peacefully and never return to these grounds then you will leave unharmed. If not then you shall be forcibly removed."

Gaston laughed harshly. "I would like to see you try. You're injured and weak. I could easily defeat you." The hunter reached for his belt but a sudden frown distorted his victorious face. Where the hilt of his dagger should have been there was only air. "Where is –"

"This?" the prince asked with a cocked eyebrow. Resting in the palm of his hand was Gaston's knife. The young man handed it off to a nearby servant before continuing. "You are unarmed and outnumbered. I strongly advise that you leave."

"This is not the end," Gaston said, looking directly at Belle. "You have not seen the last of me. You will be mine!" Then he returned his gaze to the prince. "And your head will be mounted on the wall of my tavern, beast."

The prince snarled, a decidedly animalistic sound, and had proceeded halfway down the stairs before Belle's hand on his shoulder made him stop. "I am being especially generous, letting you live after nearly killing me. Be aware that you threatened the life of a royal, an act for which the penalty is death. It would not be wise to test my patience with your spiteful words. If you continue to threaten myself and particularly Belle in such a manner I will personally see to it that you do not leave these grounds with your life, beast."

Gaston looked as if he had been slapped across the face. He glanced around at the unforgiving faces once more before dashing out the door, one last promise of revenge spouting from his lips. As his figure disappeared into the distance a great shout went up from the gathered people.

Ella stood in a corner, terrified by what had transpired. How could she earn the love of such a hateful man, especially one who seemed so intent on hurting those people who had treated her so kindly? Tears almost burst from her eyes at the helplessness of her position.

Suddenly Ella heard a familiar name and felt her attention diverted from her own problems. A man of about Ella's height with tight brown curls atop his head strode towards a taller man dressed in bold yellow clothing.

"Well, Lumière, old friend," the brunette said, shaking the tall man's hand companionably. "Shall we let bygones be bygones?"

"Of course,  _mon ami_ ," Lumière replied. "I told you she would break the spell!"

Cogsworth gazed at Lumière, affronted. "I beg your pardon, old friend, but I believe  _I_  told  _you_."

"No, you didn't," Lumière countered. " _I_ told  _you_!"

"You most certainly did not, you pompous, paraffin-headed peabrain!" Cogsworth said angrily.

" _En garde_ , you..." Lumière paused in thought, "you overgrown pocket watch!" They faced each other, fists raised.

"Men, please," Ella interrupted, stepping up to them. Both turned to look at her and confusion crossed their faces, although they both at least lowered their fists, which was what Ella was hoping for.

"Pardon me,  _mademoiselle_ , but who are you?" Lumière asked.

"Ella," she answered.  _Of course_ , the enchantress thought to herself.  _Nobody will recognize you because none of them know you as anything more than a decorative statue. Except maybe the prince._  At this Ella's stomach clenched in fear.

"Ella, of course," Cogsworth said, chuckling to himself. "My apologies, but I did not recognize you as a human. Sad, isn't it?" He and Lumière both laughed, but then suddenly his expression grew more thoughtful. "Although come to think of it, I do not remember ever seeing you before. I mean no disrespect but I daresay that you have a memorable appearance."

Ella felt herself blushing as she feverishly thought up an excuse. "That's because I was never on the grounds before the night of the curse. I was desperate for a place to sleep because I had been travelling for days, so I crept in through an open door in the kitchens and hid in a cupboard that very night. The curse transformed everyone who was living in the castle and I was also caught in it, presumably because I was 'living' there for the night."

"Remarkable," Lumière laughed. "You chose a most unfortunate resting place."

"I would not consider it a great misfortune," Ella said with a small smile, "although being made of stone has its drawbacks. But while I was staying here I made friends and felt like I belonged some place. It was nice."

"Was?" Lumière asked. "Are you not going to stay?"

"I did not think that I would be allowed," Ella admitted, gazing at the floor shame-faced.

"Well of course you would," Cogsworth said briskly. "This castle is plenty big enough for one more person. I daresay your help would not be unneeded. Do you have much experience cooking or cleaning?"

"No," Ella replied but quickly added, "but I am a fast learner."

"Excellent," Lumière said. "Welcome to the family,  _ma petite cherie_."

Ella beamed. Perhaps living as a mortal wouldn't be all that horrible. Now creating a relationship with the hunter, that was an entirely different story.


	3. The Sparks of Interest

As Cogsworth informed Ella of the different roles and duties of the castle workers, the enchantress kept an eye on Prince Adam. The prince had descended the staircase, with Belle's help, and was now mingling with the celebrating servants. Ella was impressed to see him eagerly embrace many of them.

Suddenly the prince turned in her direction and for the briefest second their eyes met. Prince Adam did a double take but when he glanced back Ella was gone. As soon as the enchantress had connected gazes with the prince she had turned and rushed into the crowd, forcing her way towards the door.

Prince Adam pushed his way over to Cogsworth, who had only just paused for breath and realised that his audience had vanished. "Who was that girl you were speaking with, Cogsworth?" the prince asked hastily.

Cogsworth stared briefly at the spot where Ella had stood, confusion carving lines in his face, before glancing up at the prince. "A new maid, by the name of Ella, sir," the former clock answered. "Did you see where she went? I was talking to her."

"No," Adam replied. "In fact I was about to ask you the same thing. If you happen to locate her, please bring her before me."

"Of course, sir," Cogsworth agreed but something in the prince's face made him nervous. "Is there something bothering you, your majesty?"

"No," Adam said casually. "There is simply something about her that seems familiar and I would like to speak with her. Besides, if she is to work here I should like to know her." With that the prince turned his attention instead to Lumière, posing inquiries as to if a feast could be prepared in celebration, to which the maître d' replied eagerly.

"Where did that girl wander off to?" Cogsworth muttered to himself as he scanned the crowd and then set out in search of his newest charge.

Ella, meanwhile, was walking once more across the sodden grass. Even though she longed to stay at the castle among her friends, she knew it was a bad idea. Not only would it leave her a great distance from Gaston, but also she dared not face Prince Adam. Ella was all too certain that he had recognised her.

Summoning up her strength, Ella once again closed her eyes and felt herself pulled away. When she opened them she was standing at the end of a wide road that led through the middle of a small village. A large crowd of people was streaming towards the tavern and Ella joined them out of curiosity.

The large tavern was packed with anxious people, bodies filling every table and many were standing around the edges of the room. Three identical blonde girls were perched on a bar near the fireplace, tittering to everyone nearby in simpering voices. In front of the fireplace stood a high-backed chair topped with large antlers and in this chair sat a familiar man.

Gaston gazed out at the villagers with his usual air of superiority but his eyes were strangely unfocused, as if his mind were elsewhere. A hand rested on his empty belt sheath and continually clenched and unclenched, unconsciously trying to grasp the missing hilt.

"C'mon Gaston, tell us what happened." A small man, short and rotund, was seated on the floor next to the chair and looked up at the hunter eagerly. Several other people chorused in, prompting Gaston to raise a hand for silence.

"Alright, alright," Gaston replied, although he did not appear at all exasperated by the request. If anything, he inflated at the attention. "I warn you though, it's a terrifying tale." Many of the men whispered to each other excitedly. Gaston never failed to tell a thrilling story.

Gaston cleared his throat so that silence returned and then leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees for support. "While all of you men were down in the main part of the castle, I tracked the beast up into a tower. It was a terrifying monster, larger than a bear with horns on its head and fangs longer than my fingers. It was sitting at a table and didn't even hear me enter. So I drew my bow and shot an arrow straight into its side. That howl, it was enough to terrify any other man into hysterics but I remained strong. It fled out onto the rooftops and I tracked it.

"That's when Belle arrived and the beast launched into a wild frenzy, throwing itself at me with all its strength. It was like wrestling a mother bear, worse even, until it threw me down. Knowing that – like any animal – it would leave me if I were dead, I pretended I was and it walked back to the balcony. That's when I jumped up and plunged my dagger straight into its back. It turned around and even as it was bleeding, that monster threw me straight off the roof."

At this point the identical girls shrieked in horror. Ella rolled her eyes in disbelief. Why were they so upset? They obviously knew that he had survived since he was sitting right in front of them. Gaston calmed the women before continuing.

"As I fell I reached out and grabbed hold of a lower balcony. I pulled myself up onto the platform and began planning my next attack. I knew that I couldn't go hunting for it again by wandering through the castle, because its minions might have ambushed me, you see. The monster fought so unsportsmanly that I expected nothing better from its servants. So instead I climbed down a chain of ivy that had grown up the castle walls. Once I finally reached the ground I crept around the outside of the castle and went in again through the front doors.

"There, at the top of the stairs, was a man; a weak, pale wisp of a man. As soon as I saw the person next to him I gasped in shock. The man was most definitely the beast, because right there at his side was the traitorous wench, Belle."

The entire pub, with the exception of Ella, let out a collective gasp. Mutterings of disdain spread among the villagers. Ella expected them to be anger at how Gaston spoke of Belle but to her surprise she heard the man standing closest to her mumble to his neighbour, "I always knew that girl was trouble."

Gaston cleared his throat again and silence instantly fell over the tavern. "I know, it surprised me too." Instantly everyone began nodding in agreement, although that was not what they had been thinking. "I called out a challenge to the man but he refused. Then he proceeded to threaten me, that if I didn't leave he would kill me.

"And the most ludicrous thing of all: this man is so insane he was trying to tell me that he was a  _prince_!"

The villagers erupted into wild laughter, following Gaston's lead. Ella looked around in shock. Were these people honestly so ignorant?

"Did you show that pompous lad?" a corpulent man asked, lifting his mug so eagerly that it slopped ale onto his apron.

"You bet I did," Gaston said grandly. Ella gasped at this blatant lie, although the raucous cheering that burst from the villagers overcast her. "Well boys, I've had quite enough adventure for the day. Close up for me, would ya Nathan?" The bartender nodded affirmatively. The hunter stood and moved to the door, stopped constantly by admirers and swooning women.

Ella slipped outside unnoticed and waited at the edge of the road for the hunter. When he finally emerged he was not alone, but followed faithfully by the small man who had sat near his chair like an eager child.

"Monsieur Gaston?" Ella said tentatively. Gaston turned in her direction and flinched with surprise.

"How did you get here?" Gaston asked rudely.

"I walked, same as you," Ella lied.

"Oh, of course," Gaston said, shaking his head. The small man nudged his elbow gently and Gaston glanced at him shortly. "Mademoiselle, this is LeFou. LeFou, this is –" The hunter stopped, brow wrinkling in thought.

"Ella," the enchantress supplied, barely stopping herself from rolling her eyes in exasperation. She saved his life and he forgot her within a matter of hours! This task was getting more difficult by the second.

"Of course," Gaston repeated. "I was just about to say that."

Ella bit back the angry retort on her lips and forced herself to nod subjectively. "My apologies, monsieur. T'wasn't my place."

"You're a bright lass," Gaston commented, eyeing Ella interestedly. The enchantress felt herself squirm slightly as she noticed how his gaze swept over her  _entire_  body and she became aware of the fact that her dampened white dress had become partially transparent. In several places where the cloth touched her body, her dark skin could be viewed through the fabric. "Tell me, mademoiselle, what is your purpose here in town?"

"Seeking lodgings," Ella admitted. While this was not her exact purpose, she could hardly tell him the truth. And she did need a place to stay.

Gaston nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps you could stay in a room here in my tavern. We have plenty of empty rooms."

"But I have no money for payment," Ella said without thinking, and then inwardly grimaced. She was an enchantress after all, she could summon the money if the need came. But now that she had told the hunter something quite to the contrary…

"That's no bother," Gaston said, waving a hand as if to brush away such simplistic matters. "We can find some way for you to repay me later." Ella fidgeted again at the queer look on his face as he said this, but she couldn't let her unease show on her face.

"Oh  _merci_!" she said gratefully. Then, deciding to play to the hunter's weaknesses, Ella continued, "You are such a wonderful man. Any woman would be lucky to have you as her own."

"I know," Gaston answered. Ella fought back her disgust and managed to keep a charming look on her face. The enchantress direly wished that she had met this man under different circumstances. Then she would have taught him a lesson in humility. "Come now,  _ma petite_ , and I will see what we can set up for you."

With this Gaston placed a hand between her shoulder blades and led her back into the tavern. Ignoring everyone else, the hunter led Ella up a flight of stairs. Without a word more he steered her towards one of the wooden doors and then opened it for her.

"This should suffice,  _non_?" Gaston asked, watching Ella's reaction.

" _Oui_ , monsieur," the enchantress replied. "Thank you again for everything. I will find a way to repay you, I promise." As she said this she stood taller, pulling her shoulders back and brushing away her hair so that the low neck of her dress caught the hunter's hungry gaze. While she despised herself for doing so, she knew that it was the quickest way to get him interested in her and she only had a few months.

"I will hold you to that," Gaston said, his eyes not lifting from what he could see of her bosom. "Goodnight, mademoiselle."

"Goodnight," Ella echoed sweetly. With these departure statements the hunter closed the door and returned to his journey home. While his pride still longed for Belle, he found this exotic new woman very tempting. He could never feel for her the way he felt for Belle, but she could suffice him for a while until some plan for revenge could be conceived.

Not only was she pleasing to the eyes, she was more than that. She was foreign and one of a kind among these simpletons. She was also fully aware of her place as not his equal but his inferior. Like a loyal pet he could train her to do his bidding.

 _Oh yes,_  Gaston thought, feeling a ravenous and familiar hunger deep inside him.  _This girl could serve me very well._


	4. Memories of an Empty Timepiece

Long hours had passed and night had fallen heavily over the castle. The grand feast had long since ended, although smaller clusters of friends still celebrated together. Lumière had vanished with Babette to rejoice in private, leaving Cogsworth alone to his musing.

The head of the house stood alone in his bedchambers, staring out at the starry sky without really seeing it. His thoughts were centred on the young girl who had vanished without a sign. While he acted unaffected in the public eye, he could worry openly by himself. Ella was young, beautiful and alone; a dangerous status for a girl in times such as these.

 _Why am I so worried?_  Cogsworth wondered to himself, although he almost instantly knew the answer. In the years under the enchantment he had grown to see the young girl as a friend. Being an Englishman in a French castle he didn't have many of those, with the exception of Mrs. Potts and, on most days, Lumière. He had enjoyed the friendly, if saucy, way that Ella had treated him, respecting his authority but also talking to him as an equal. They shared a common trait that bound them together: they were both outsiders.

"Where have you run off to, girl?" Cogsworth asked aloud, letting his quiet voice drift out the opened window.

"Where has who gone?" a cheerful but gentle voice asked from behind. Cogsworth jumped in surprise and spun around. Mrs. Potts stood in the doorway, watching him with maternal curiosity. It was no shock he hadn't heard her approach; he had grown so used to listening for the clicking hop of objects that footsteps were an alien sound to him.

"Mrs. Potts," Cogsworth addressed shortly.

"Who has gone?" she repeated, coming to stand next to him at the window.

Cogsworth desperately wanted to say that it was nothing but he knew he couldn't. The elderly woman would never believe him, and besides, he owed it to her to be honest. She had taken him under her wing since his arrival, acting as a replacement mother for the one he had lost so very long ago.

Cogsworth sighed, steeling himself for the plunge. "Just a friend. Ella. She was supposed to be staying here but she suddenly vanished and we haven't heard from her yet."

"The hawk girl?" Mrs. Potts asked in confusion. "I thought she already lived here?"

Cogsworth shook his head and quickly recounted the explanation Ella had given him. "And now I worry about her. I don't like the thought of her out on her own."

"You seem to have become good friends," Mrs. Potts said but there was a hidden smile in her voice. Cogsworth however was lost in thought once more and did not catch the implication.

"Yes, very good friends," he answered dully.

Mrs. Potts sighed. Obviously subtlety wasn't going to work on this one. "Do you love her, Cogsworth?"

This statement jerked the head of house promptly back to reality.

"No, of course not," Cogsworth replied instantly. "We are friends and will be nothing more."

Mrs. Potts clicked her tongue sadly. "That's a shame. It might do you good to have a little companionship. Maybe it would help you relax."

Even though he knew she had meant no harm, Cogsworth couldn't help but be stung by her words. He was the head of house with a castle to manage. He couldn't afford to relax. He had a duty, and a very important one at that, that required his full attention. If he let himself be distracted by a relationship he might end up like Lumière. Cogsworth shuddered at the thought.

"I have no time for romance," Cogsworth informed Mrs. Potts. For some reason the elderly lady looked disappointed.

"I will leave you to your duties then." Mrs. Potts touched his arm lightly. "Don't stay up too late worrying."

Cogsworth smiled faintly in response as the motherly woman left. Mind still elsewhere, he returned his unfocused gaze to the window. The cold night air bit into his flesh and the cleansed smell of rain still hung in the air. Cogsworth took a deep breath, revelling in the ability to feel the evening chill for the first time in a decade, but as much as he tried to distract himself he couldn't get his mind off of Mrs. Potts' question.

_Do I love Ella? Impossible!_

Cogsworth shook himself. He knew that what he had told Mrs. Potts was no lie. He was a career-oriented person and he simply didn't have the time for a relationship. Least of all with a girl like Ella. She was so young, barely old enough to be considered a woman, but Cogsworth was nearing the age of forty and felt even older. The spell had kept each of the servants at the same age while they had been transformed, so although he had lived ten years he had not aged.

Besides, he couldn't offer any girl the promise of a romantic relationship. He hadn't been much of a romantic since…

Cogsworth felt his eyes drifting over to the stand beside his bed. In the top drawer, beneath a stack of various papers, was the reason. The reason he had come to France. The reason he had lost contact with all of his old friends, one by one. The reason his only concern was his work.

Without remembering ever moving, Cogsworth found himself perched on the edge of his bed, the top drawer open before him. Holding his breath, Cogsworth shifted aside the small pile of parchments and lifted out a little wooden box. The hinges creaked as he opened it, rusty from years of idleness.

Inside the box was another collection of parchment, a small golden ring on a chain, and a faded portrait. Cogsworth gently brushed his fingers over the ribbon holding the stack of letters together and the gold ring before grasping the portrait frame and removing it from the wooden box.

The painting showed a beautiful young woman, staring up from the canvas. Her long golden hair brushed the tops of her slender shoulders, framing her delicate white face. Electrifying blue eyes gazed from the centre of her face and Cogsworth felt his breath catch in his chest. She looked so real that he longed to gently touch her face but refrained himself. The canvas was ageing and he was afraid of tearing it. This was the only lasting way to look upon the face of the only person he had ever loved, a face he had almost become unable to recall.

* * *

"Cogsworth." The sweet call fell on his ears gratefully and he rushed towards the sound. In those days he had been more lean and fit, and moving with speed was no concern for him. He rounded a corner to find his summoner sitting on the sill of a window, gazing out with ecstatic eyes.

"What is it?" Cogsworth asked, moving closer to her. Wordlessly, she pointed out at the horizon. There the sun was just beginning to peek over the edge of the plains, dying the sky the colour of a pale rose.

"The sunrise," the girl said, savouring the words as they passed her lips. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"Indeed," Cogsworth answered, leaning in to kiss her brow softly. "As beautiful as its watcher, Elaine."

Elaine smiled at the gesture. "I get up early every morning just to watch this. I think this is the most beautiful sunrise that I have ever seen. This has made my day wonderful."

"Then would you make my day wonderful as well?" Cogsworth asked and as he did he withdrew his hand from his pocket. In his palm rested a small golden ring, decorated with a single pink stone. "I love you and I will until the day I die. Elaine, will you marry me?"

Elaine had gasped, both hands jumping to cover her mouth in surprise. Then warm tears filled her eyes as she silently nodded and fell into Cogsworth's embrace.

* * *

They were wed within the year and enjoyed their new lives together. One night Cogsworth had stopped at a tavern on his way home for a quick drink. He had gotten caught up in a game of cards and only when his opponent left to turn in for the night did he realize how late it was. Cogsworth had rushed home, preparing apologies, but when he neared his house he found a crowd gathered outside.

He forced his way through the throng desperately, fear clawing at his insides. Several people tried to grab his arms and hold him back but he fought them all off. He finally reached the front door to his house and entered it. Half a dozen men were standing inside, surveying the scene before them with wide eyes.

All of the furniture had been thrown aside and shattered glass littered the floor, but Cogsworth had eyes for only one sight. Lying in the middle of the room was a blanket-covered form.

Cogsworth felt his stomach clench, nausea making him weak. He stumbled to the blanket, ignoring the cautionary protests of the other men, and lifted it to view what was beneath. Elaine.

A howl of remorse rent from his lips, echoing every ounce of shock and pain that filled his heart. He clasped the already cold hand of his bride and pressed it to his cheek, tears of purest anguish pouring from his eyes.

If only he had come straight home from work, but no, he had wanted a little leisure. A little leisure at the cost of the thing dearest to his heart. It was in that moment that Cogsworth had decided duty took the foremost role and leisure was a wasted experience.

The widower's agony was not over, however. The killer had been apprehended less than a quarter mile from Cogsworth's home and hung the next morning, but not before the city mortician informed them all that the deceased woman had been with child.

A few weeks after Elaine's funeral the Queen had offered him a new position. Her surrogate son, Prince Adam of France, had become rather difficult and she needed someone to work in his castle and manage the household. Wanting to be as far from the memory of his shame, Cogsworth readily accepted and departed for France within the week.

* * *

Cogsworth felt tears falling from his eyes and quickly moved the painting so as not to damage it. He set the portrait on his bedside table and leaned back into his pillows, sobbing uncontrollably. When his tears began to slow, his mind returned to his previous thoughts.

 _Do I love Ella?_ he pondered to himself once more.

Cogsworth realized with a pang of sadness that it would be impossible for him to love anyone. He had given his whole heart to his bride and it had gone with her to the grave. All that remained of him was a body wearied beyond its years and a mind focused only on his work duties. Even if he longed to, even if he found a woman so perfect for him as Elaine had been, Cogsworth was utterly incapable of love.

With a trembling hand Cogsworth reached once more into the wooden box and this time withdrew the golden ring on its chain. He admired the beautifully carved pink gem with sad eyes before hanging it around his neck. With these sad thoughts flooding his mind, Cogsworth drifted into an uneasy sleep.


	5. The Challenges of Courtship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains strong allusions to sexual themes and non-con.

Ella awoke early in the morning, not being physically required to sleep. Catching sight of her reflection in the mirror above the bedside table she gasped. She looked like a wreck. Her dress was stained and torn and her usually sleek hair hung in a snarled mess around her face. The enchantress conjured a new dress, this time of pale blue, and then combed her hair and braided it into a long plait secured by a narrow ribbon.

Satisfied with her appearance, Ella walked down to the tavern lodge. There she found the barman, Nathan, and Gaston's short companion, LeFou.

"Bonjour," Ella said brightly. Both men glanced up at her. The barman eyed her with curious interest while the shorter man waddled towards her, a broad smile on his face.

"Bonjour, mademoiselle," LeFou replied. "Didja sleep good?"

 _"Oui,"_  Ella answered. "Most wonderfully, thank you."

"Good," LeFou said with a nod of his head. "Gaston'll be happy."

"Monsieur Gaston is a good man," Ella said softly. LeFou bobbed his head in agreement. "I dearly hope I can repay him for his kindness."

"I'm sure he'll find something," LeFou said casually but Ella noted the strange grimace on his face as he said it.

"Are you well, monsieur?" Ella asked gently.

"Yep." LeFou's buck-toothed grin returned. "Hey, I'm just heading to Gaston's now. You wanna come with?"

"That would be wonderful," Ella replied, gracing the young man with a sweet smile. LeFou led the way to the door, and the pair headed along the village's main road, earning curious glances from the other early risers.

LeFou stopped in front of a large wooden house, not too far from the tavern, and knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" growled a voice from inside.

"It's me," the short man answered unaffectedly.  _This exchange must be ritual,_  Ella thought to herself.

"Come in," Gaston rumbled in response. LeFou pushed open the door and entered, gesturing for the enchantress to follow.

"Miss Ella's here too," LeFou informed him, rather needlessly as the hunter had already spotted her. The hungry spark in his eyes began to glow again.

"I did not mean to intrude upon you," Ella said shyly. "I simply wanted to thank you once more for your generosity, and ask if you had thought of a way for me to repay you."

"Think nothing of it," Gaston commanded airily. "Just keep yourself in good health for the time being and enjoy Molyneaux."

Ella nodded, although a drop of trepidation formed in her stomach. Something in the hunter's voice made her uneasy. Gaston surveyed her for a moment longer before turning his attention to his lackey.

"Is the tavern cleaned and ready?"

"Absolutely," LeFou replied eagerly. "Nathan says we're starting to get short on ale. The men've been going through it faster than usual this month. Prol'ly with all that scare with the beast."

"Well I won't be able to make it in to the brewer's for at least another week," Gaston said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Tell him to just water it down a bit so it lasts. The guys won't notice."

"I'll get on that now," LeFou said with a nod and hurried out the door and back towards the tavern. Ella stood awkwardly in the doorframe, wanting to leave but knowing that this would be a good opportunity to get closer to the hunter. Gaston noticed the look on her face and laughed heartily.

"It's all about image," he said, assuming her confusion was about his tavern's ethics. "See, the men are always so drunk that they don't even notice if their alcohol tastes different. Besides, they'd much rather have diluted drinks than none at all. As long as the men think they are getting the same drinks as always, even a glass of water could make 'em drunk. It's a complicated behaviour thing, so don't feel bad if you don't understand it."

"You're so smart," Ella commented, inwardly repulsed by the dishonesty.

"Come in and sit down," Gaston said, gesturing to the chair beside his. Ella sat lightly in the chair, taking the time to smooth her dress very tightly over her behind before sitting. The hunter watched this action fixedly until she was completely seated. "So, where are you from? You definitely aren't from these parts."

"No, I'm from a great ways away," the enchantress agreed. "Far to the south, across the sea."

"How'd you end up here?" Gaston asked, although he didn't seem to be paying as much attention to her words as to the point where the neck of her dress reached its lowest.

"I ran away from home," Ella concocted hurriedly. "My family wanted me to settle down but I wanted to go on an adventure. See distant places, experience new cultures, meet interesting people." As she said this last statement Ella slid closer to Gaston in her chair.

"Well lucky you to end up here," Gaston said, "and to meet as interesting a person as me."

"Yes, lucky me," Ella concurred with a hint of cynicism that the hunter thankfully missed. The enchantress glanced around the house at all the furs and mounted antlers. "Did you capture every one of these by yourself?"

"Yeah," the hunter replied, taking advantage of her distraction to slip an arm around her waist. Ella was a little startled but did not pull away for fear of angering him. "Got that one when I was only twelve," he bragged, pointing to a large rack above the door. "Although my best one is at the tavern. Took that when I was only ten and my father had it mounted above the fireplace."

"Ten?" Ella asked in feigned surprise. "How marvellous. You must be the best hunter in the world."

"So I'm told," Gaston said without the slightest trace of modesty.

"It's no wonder every girl wants you as her own," Ella said coyly, placing a hand on the hunter's knee. Surprisingly Gaston's face soured.

"Every girl but one," he replied and suddenly rose, moving over to his empty fireplace. He leaned against the mantle, gazing at the stone hearth darkly. "Belle."

"The girl from the castle?" Ella asked, although she already knew the answer. Which was a good thing, as Gaston didn't respond.

"I asked her to marry me once," he continued as if he had not heard the enchantress. "I was so sure that she would agree, but she turned me down. I had already told so many people that she would marry me, and when I returned to my tavern I had to tell them all how she had rejected me. The humiliation."

"That's awful," Ella said gently.

"Worst of all was seeing the way she looked at that monster," Gaston snarled. Ella was struck by the thought of how much like a beast he sounded himself, although she knew she would never dare voice this aloud. "That wench had the nerve to choose a beast over me."

"She was a stupid girl then," Ella said firmly. She was heartened to see the faint traces of a smile return to his face. Emboldened, the enchantress continued. "All those books must have damaged her head. She didn't understand her place, her duties to a man. Not like me."

"No, you're a good girl," Gaston agreed, standing straight again and moving back into his seat beside her. His eyes still held indications of his thought train but his façade had regained its confidence. "You would make a charming wife. Dependable, obedient, beautiful, appreciative. Yes, you could serve a husband very well."

Ella giggled slightly, imitating the blonde triplets from the bar, and fluttered her long lashes at the praise. If those were the sort of actions that got a man's attention in this world, she would learn to perform them all perfectly.

"How about I take you on a tour of the village?" Gaston offered. Ella eagerly agreed and they began back up the main road LeFou had led her down earlier. When several young men cast interested glances at the enchantress, Gaston placed a possessive arm around her waist and they all averted their eyes. Every man in town now knew that this young beauty belonged to the hunter.

Two weeks passed in the same fashion. Ella spent her nights comfortably in the tavern and her days with Gaston. She accompanied him when he travelled to the nearest city to purchase the kegs from the brewery and applauded him when he lifted full barrels by himself. The enchantress followed him when he went into the tavern in the evenings, listening attentively to his stories of the hunt. Slowly, Ella felt herself becoming one of Gaston's swooning maidens in her desperation to gain his affection.

One evening, nearly three weeks after Ella had arrived in Molyneaux, Gaston never showed up in the tavern. The enchantress grew slightly worried because the hunter had been in a peculiar mood that morning. Determined to find out if he was well, Ella donned the cloak he had bought her a few days prior and ventured to his house.

When Ella knocked on the door only a muffled grunt replied. Concerned, Ella pushed the door open and stepped inside cautiously. A smouldering fire dimly lit the room, and the enchantress could just make out Gaston, sitting hunched over at the table and staring moodily into the mug before him. The hunter lifted his bloodshot gaze to his visitor and his face twisted.

"I'm sorry," Ella apologised quickly. "I didn't mean to intrude. I was just worried when you didn't show at the tavern. You promised that you would tell me the story of the first stag you ever killed. I can see that you want to be alone though, so I'll just –"

Ella turned to leave but Gaston mumbled, "No." The enchantress stopped and pivoted back to face the hunter. "No, you can stay." Ella closed the door and slipped into the chair beside Gaston, nearly coughing at the alcoholic musk on his breath.

"Is there something bothering you?" she asked delicately. Gaston merely grunted and took another deep swallow from his mug. After several long and awkward moments, Gaston looked up and eyed Ella.

"You know, you are a very beautiful woman," he said, reaching forward to stroke the side of Ella's face.

"And you are very drunk," the enchantress replied, shying away from his touch with an uncomfortable giggle.

"Why are you fighting me? Isn't this what you want, simpering after me like those wenches?" Gaston laughed. He flung an arm around Ella's shoulders and pulled her closer, despite her protests. However much she longed to move away, the enchantress knew she could not risk angering the man who unknowingly held her future in his hands. "You said it yourself, any girl would be lucky to have me."

The hunter lifted his mug and took a lengthy swallow. As he set the drained mug back on the table he let his arm drop from Ella's shoulders to her waist. The enchantress squirmed slightly in unease, although Gaston mistook this sign.

"You know, I am the greatest hunter in the world," Gaston bragged. "I was only ten when I took down my first deer. I have slain every type of wild creature that roams the forests. Deer, elk, moose, wolf, bear. I've conquered them all, and each became a trophy.

"Although my greatest trophy is one that hasn't been slain," Gaston finished, turning his bloodshot eyes on Ella. The enchantress opened her mouth to respond but before she could Gaston had covered it with his own.

Ella gasped as she felt his lips crush over hers. As nervous as she was she let him continue, partly out of fear and partly out of curiosity. This was a sensation she had never experienced, intimate physical contact with another being. She had never even so much as hugged another being before her time spent here. A kiss – that was something she had only ever seen and she wanted to know what the attraction was.

Gradually Gaston's kisses became more forceful as his hands travelled over her face and, removing his mouth from hers, the hunter effortlessly lifted Ella into his lap. Much to Ella's unease, his hands moved down her front and became occupied with her breasts. Within minutes Gaston's lust took control and he carried Ella over to the bed. The enchantress began to protest but her worries fell on deaf ears. All that the hunter could hear was the animal inside him crying for flesh.

Gaston climbed onto the bed on top of her, sitting above her and gazing down at her expectantly. Not bothering to find any buttons, Gaston simply clasped the neck of Ella's dress and tore it clean down the middle. A hungry gleam appeared in his eyes at the sight of her bared body. He allowed himself time to simply run his hands over her skin, revelling in the feeling of her form.

Ella struggled to free herself but the way the hunter rested on her prevented any movement, her arms trapped within the shredded remains of her dress. This man was more than twice her size and Ella realised there was no physical way of escape. Summoning her magic, Ella forced her way into the hunter's mind. Immediately she began releasing spells to change the man's thoughts but to her horror each enchantment failed. Gaston continued on with his exploration without the smallest sign of the magic's persuasion.

In her frantic state, her father's words suddenly drifted into Ella's mind.

_Also, you may reveal to no one that you are of magic or use your magic on this man._

The enchantress let another sob escape her as she glanced at the man who was hastily undressing above her. Her magic would not work on Gaston. Her last chance at escaping had been removed. Resigned to her fate, a last cynical thought crossed her mind.

_I hope you're happy, Father._


	6. Theories of Various Natures

Prince Adam leaned heavily on the window frame in the West Wing, staring blankly out at the rolling thunderheads. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that when Belle entered the tower room he didn't notice.

"Adam?" Belle asked gently. The prince jumped and pivoted on his heel. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"No, it's alright," Adam said, turning back to the window and resuming his gazing.

"Are you all right?" Belle asked carefully. She approached him and placed a hand on his forearm lightly.

Adam looked at her and smiled gently. "I've just had a lot on my mind these last few weeks. A lot has changed. I came up here to think." He sighed. "There's so much that I have to relearn. All of these politics and diplomacy. And manners," he added and was rewarded with a sweet laugh from Belle before continuing.

"Cogsworth shall drive me insane with all his lessons. It is unbelievable how much I have forgotten in these years. Things that were once a habit are now taxing assignments to study. And each one must be firmly understood before I can retake my place on the throne."

"You will manage," Belle assured him. "We will learn them together." The prince smiled fondly at her encouragement. "Speaking of Cogsworth, however, has he seemed different to you lately?"

"Yes," Adam replied with a small, teasing smile. "He's a lot taller and he doesn't tick as much, although he still waddles. Overall, he's a little more –  _human_."

Belle chuckled before responding. "That's not what I meant and you know it. He's seemed a bit – distant. As if he's not entirely there."

Prince Adam stared back out at the clouds, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Now that you mention it, he has seemed a little different."

Belle picked up the thread. "He works harder than ever, but whenever he isn't working he seems distracted. I'm a little worried about him."

"I'll watch him more closely tomorrow and if the problem continues I will speak with him about it," Adam promised. Then his gaze turned thoughtful once more. "I wonder if it has anything to do with that girl."

"What girl?" Belle asked interestedly, misinterpreting the prince's speculation. "Does Cogsworth have a love interest?"

"No, I don't think it is anything like that." Adam laughed to himself as he tried and failed to picture Cogsworth wooing a lady. He recounted the story of when he had spotted the bizarre girl talking to Cogsworth the day the curse had been broken.

"Ella," Belle said to herself, thinking. "Yes, I think I met her once. The poor dear had been transformed into a stone bird. She was very kind to me."

"She was the strangest looking person I had ever seen," Adam confessed. "Her hair was as white as an old maid's, but her skin was brown, dark like the earth. Yet with as unusual as she looked, she also seemed familiar to me. I almost thought that she was –" The prince stopped suddenly, a faint flush creeping into his cheeks.

"What is it?" Belle asked curiously. "Do you know her?"

"I'm not sure," Adam said slowly. "I may be wrong, but she reminded me of the enchantress who cursed me."

Belle gasped. "Really? Do you think she is the same?"

"Well she had such a strange appearance I think it would be difficult to mistake her," the prince admitted, "but if it is her, then I have no idea why she would be here."

"Maybe she wanted to see if her spell worked," Belle suggested. Adam nodded pensively. "But if it was her then I hope she returns." The prince gazed at her in astonishment. "I should like to thank her. If she had not placed you under that spell than I would never have met you."

Adam smiled lovingly, wrapping Belle in his arms. "That is very true," he said. The prince kissed Belle's brow and gazed down at his future bride. "What a horrible loss that would have been."

"It is late," Belle said, "and we have more lessons tomorrow. I think it was about time we were off to bed." Wordlessly, Adam followed her as the twisting clouds outside rumbled ominously.

* * *

Setting down the mirror in his hand, Cyrix chortled to himself. Already his daughter had gotten herself into a fix. If this went on any longer she would beg for him to release her from the bargain and bring her home. Cyrix closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, half expecting to hear Tryamon's cry in his mind.

A firm knock on the door made Cyrix uncover his eyes. "Enter," he commanded and the door opened to reveal Alkyl. The younger magician inclined his head respectfully to Cyrix and then glanced up eagerly. Cyrix already knew what Alkyl wanted; it was the same thing he wanted every time he came.

"Have you any news of Tryamon?" Alkyl asked predictably.

"Do not worry yourself, she will be home shortly," Cyrix assured him. "As I have told you before, the man in question is quite incapable of affection for any being besides himself. I could not have chosen a better man to assure that Tryamon would fail. This mortal's only uses for women are to see that his home is cared for and his cravings for the flesh satisfied. Already she has been captured as a prey of his desires."

"And you allowed this?" Alkyl gasped.

Cyrix laughed throatily. "Of course I did. If I had prevented this then she would merely take advantage of my intervention. My daughter is a clever girl, Alkyl. Trust my judgement Letting her experience these tortures will break her determination and show her the darker side of this world that she reveres." The elder magician laced his fingers together and rested his chin on them, a triumphant grin tainting his features. "Yes, she will be home soon enough."

Alkyl bowed his head in submission. "The sooner the better for me. Sir, were there any references in your pact to external tampering?"

"What plans are you concocting?" Cyrix asked, a crafty smirk contorting his face.

"I was simply inquiring if there was something that might prevent my actions should I choose to – intervene," Alkyl replied. "I have no plans of yet."

Cyrix surveyed him sceptically but pressed him no further. "No, I made no allusions. Whatever plans you may devise should proceed unhindered. Keep in mind, however, that should any of your actions turn wrongly, it is your marriage on the line."

"Of course, sir," Alkyl said humbly. Already different plots were forming in his mind. "I will leave you to your work then."

"And I you," Cyrix responded with a knowing eyebrow arched.

"Good day," Alkyl dismissed as if he had not heard him. The younger magician then bowed and retreated.

"Now you stand no chance, Tryamon," Cyrix said with a hollow laugh. "Alkyl is as determined to have you as his own as you are determined not to be. The only thing that differs is that he can use magic to achieve his goal. No, you shall not stand a chance at all."


	7. More Questions Than Answers

Moving skilfully through the darkness, Cogsworth made his way to the window. He took a cleansing breath of tangy morning air as his gaze moved to the distant horizon, where the first colours of dawn were appearing.

"Sunrise," he murmured, moist eyes drinking in the ruddy cast clouds beyond the forest. Every morning since the day of their wedding, Elaine had awoken him to watch the sun rise. It had eventually become habit and still Cogsworth rose to gaze at the dawn every morning without fail, feeling that it somehow kept him connected to his beloved wife.

"Oh Elaine," Cogsworth sighed into the still air. "I miss you so much." The first rays of sunlight poured over the horizon, warming his face. Cogsworth smiled faintly. He had always liked to believe that after she had died, Elaine's spirit had gone to the sun since she had loved it so much. Cogsworth watched the sun until it had risen completely above the forest, his mind buried in distant thoughts and memories.

A shriek from below jerked Cogsworth unexpectedly from his reminiscing. Startled, he glanced down and saw what appeared to be a cloaked body spread on the ground not far from the castle doors. Another person was standing nearby, calling softly into the air for help.

Fear engulfed the head of house. Had someone fallen from a tower? Forgetting that he was still in his nightshirt, Cogsworth rushed out of his chambers and headed for the entrance hall.

"Ah,  _mon ami_ , what has you in such a haste?" Lumière asked as he spotted Cogsworth running towards him.

"It looks like someone fell from a tower," Cogsworth explained hurriedly as he passed him.

" _Mon dieu_ ," Lumière gasped and fell into stride beside him. Together the pair descended two flights and as they were dashing through the first floor, a wild cry met their ears.

"Cogsworth!" It was Chip, running towards them with fear in his eyes. He slid to a stop in front of them and reported his message breathlessly. "There's a girl outside in the grass. You must come quickly."

Instantly, Chip turned tail and ran back the way he had come, Cogsworth and Lumière on his heels. They flew down the main stairs and Chip led them straight out the front doors.

Babette was kneeling beside the cloaked figure, eyes frantic. Lumière hurried to wrap her in his arms and muttered to her softly, consoling her in French. Cogsworth ignored them and knelt beside the other person. When he shifted aside the hood of the cloak he gasped.

"Ella," he whispered unbelievingly. The brown skin and white hair were unmistakable, but she looked worse than when Cogsworth had last seen her. Her dress had been ripped straight down the middle and her bare skin was soaked from the morning dew. There was also dried blood on her fingernails.

"I'm sorry, Cogsworth," Babette said softly, startling the head of house. "I found 'er and I was so scared I did not know what to do. She was 'alf-awake and she said your name before she passed out. So I sent Chip to find you."

" _Mon dieu_ ," Lumière swore again. "It's Ella."

"Lumière, help me lift her," Cogsworth directed. "We must get her inside." The maître d' nodded and knelt on Ella's other side. The two men lifted her, surprised by how light she was, and carried her inside, Babette and Chip trailing behind curiously. Cogsworth steered them into the closest sitting room and they laid her on the couch.

"Chip," Cogsworth said and the little boy jumped to attention, ready to be useful. "Go find your mother and bring her here."

"Yes, sir," Chip said eagerly and dashed off.

"Babette, do you have a spare dress you might offer her?" Cogsworth asked. He felt slightly awkward with Ella so exposed in front of him.

"I think so," Babette said meekly. "I will check."

"Thank you," Cogsworth said sincerely. As she left he bent over and wrapped Ella's cloak around her body, covering her. "Lumière, could you light a fire? She's freezing."

" _Oui_ ," Lumière said, surprisingly without any of his usual comments. Even he knew when to be serious. He hurried to the fireplace and began building a fire.

"You needed me?" Mrs. Potts asked as she came into the room. Then she spotted Ella on the couch. "My word, what's this?"

"Ella," Cogsworth answered, trying to control his worry and assert some authority into his voice. "Babette found her outside the castle this morning. We don't know how she got here but I want you to stay and attend to her."

"Of course," Mrs. Potts agreed.

"Will this dress do?" Babette asked suddenly, re-entering the room with a simple dress hung over her arm.

"Wonderfully," Cogsworth said. "Will you help Mrs. Potts? And everyone else, return to work. I must go inform the master of this."

"Good luck," Lumière muttered as he walked passed him, headed to the kitchen. Cogsworth took a deep breath, expecting to need that luck very much, and exited the room. The entire way to the prince's chambers he rehearsed what he would say. He knew there was some hidden importance to Ella that the prince had seen and Cogsworth hoped sincerely that she wasn't in trouble.

At the door to the prince's room, Cogsworth took another deep breath and then knocked on the wood.

"Enter," Adam commanded from the other side. Cogsworth released the breath he had been holding and then opened the door. "Ah, Cogsworth, it's you," Adam said cheerfully and then his brow wrinkled. "Why are you in your nightclothes?"

Glancing down at his clothes, Cogsworth felt a blush rising in his face. Embarrassment made him dizzy as he realised he had been running all over the castle in only his nightshirt.

"Sorry, sir," Cogsworth said, shifting self-consciously. "I suppose I was in such a hurry I – forgot." The flush on Cogsworth's face darkened and Adam laughed richly.

"Well what is it that had you in such a hurry, then?" the prince asked, still chuckling softly. Quickly, Cogsworth reported the morning's events and the smile on Adam's face was promptly chased away.

"The girl we found was Ella, the girl you asked me about the day of the transformation," Cogsworth dutifully informed him. "You said that I should notify you if I encountered her again."

"Yes, of course," Adam said, rising from his chair. He moved to the door to an adjoining room and announced, "Belle, I have something to attend to. I will meet you for breakfast." After Belle was heard to agree, the prince returned to Cogsworth. "Where is this girl? Take me to her.  _Please_ ," he added hastily. Despite himself, Cogsworth fought back a smile.

"This way, sir," the head of house said. Silently he led the prince down several flights of stairs to the sitting room. Mrs. Potts was inside, sitting in an armchair beside the fire. When the prince entered she jumped to her feet.

"Your majesty," she said quickly. Adam briefly acknowledged her and then moved his gaze to the couch. Her dress had been changed so Ella was now fully clothed in a dark rose-coloured dress. Her cloak had been removed and hung near the fire to dry.

"This is her?" Adam asked rhetorically and Cogsworth unnecessarily answered the affirmative. Now that he looked upon her, the prince was certain his theories had been correct. This girl, Ella, was the enchantress.

Indecision flooded Adam's mind. His instincts longed to throw her bodily from the castle before she could wreak more havoc, yet another voice in his head seriously contemplated Belle's logical view on the enchantress. Both sides, however, were overruled by his nobility. The girl was clearly ill and it was his duty to see that she regained her health. Also this gave him more time to sort his thoughts on the matter.

"See that she is taken care of," the prince said to Mrs. Potts, "and inform me as soon as she awakes."

"Yes, sir," Mrs. Potts said gently.

"Thank you for informing me of this, Cogsworth," Adam said, diverting his attention from the enchantress. "Now I believe you may want to go change your clothing and resume your usual duties."

"Of course, sir," Cogsworth said, blushing again. "Thank you." Hastily, the short man disappeared from the room. As he sped up to his chambers, Cogsworth's mind was whirling. Why had Ella returned? Why had she left in the first place? What had happened to her?

Terrifying scenarios chased each other through Cogsworth's head while he hastily dressed and then returned to his work. The head of house worked with a feverish abandon, determined to distract himself from his thoughts, but there was one query that he just couldn't escape, no matter how hard he tried.

_Why had she asked for me?_

* * *

Far above in the prince's sitting room, Adam's mind was also buzzing. As he entered the room Belle glanced up from her book.

"Adam, what's the matter?" she asked at the look on his face, quickly setting her book on the table. "Did something go wrong?"

"No, it's nothing," Adam answered, dropping into the chair across from her.

Belle reached out and set her hand atop his, a knowing look on her face. "You can't fool me, Adam. What happened?"

The prince gave a faint smile before rapidly retelling the morning's unusual predicament, including Ella's true identity.

"Some ill fate had befallen her though," Adam concluded. "Mrs. Potts says that her dress was torn clean down the middle and she had been soaked with dew, as though she had been out in the grass most of the night. Her fingernails were spotted with blood and there is bruising on her arms. In her sleep she looks troubled. I fear to think what could harm an enchantress so."

"Perhaps she has lost her power," Belle suggested.

"Can that happen?" the prince asked curiously.

Blushing slightly, Belle shrugged. "I don't know, I've never met an enchanter before. A year ago I didn't even know they were real. I wonder though, why would she return  _here_  for aid? If I were her, I think I would be afraid to face you."

"According to Mrs. Potts, Babette heard the enchantress ask for Cogsworth before she fainted," Adam mused. "Perhaps she was seeking her friends. She seems to have made many amongst the staff."

"That's a good point," Belle admitted. "It makes sense that in her time of need she would look for help from her friends. And she asked specifically for Cogsworth? They must have become very good friends. Lumière always told me that Ella fancied him."

"Lumière thinks  _everyone_  fancies him," Adam said with a laugh. "Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to have her around then. Lord knows Cogsworth could probably use a good friend. He's always been a little separated from the rest of the castle, although not as much now as he used to be."

"So you are going to let her stay here then?" Belle asked.

"I haven't decided." The prince sighed and covered his eyes with a hand, attempting to calm his frantic thoughts. "I'll save my decision for after I talk with her. Mrs. Potts is supposed to send for me when she wakes up. Although I must admit, if she truly wants to stay here I fear to reject her. I learned my lesson the first time I turned her away, I have no desire to repeat it."

"That is wise," Belle agreed but there was a smile on her face. "However, I don't think that it will come to that. From what I have heard, she always treated everyone in the castle with kindness while she was here in disguise. I truly think she cared for these people. You may find her more compassionate than you expect."

"And it may all have been a ruse," Adam pointed out. "We cannot know her intentions until she awakens, and even then we should be cautious. Magic is not something to be blindly accepting of." The prince shook his head and rose. "But now I am hungry. Shall we go to breakfast?"

He offered his hand, which Belle took with a smile and allowed him to pull her to her feet. Pushing all thought of the enchantress to the back of his mind, Adam led his bride-to-be down to the dining hall.

 _There is nothing I can do now but wait,_ he told himself.  _For now I must focus myself on the present._ With these thoughts, Adam returned his attention to Belle.

"So, what book were you reading before I interrupted?"

"Oh it's a marvellous story," Belle said animatedly. "It's a Shakespearean tragedy called Macbeth. It's full of battles and betrayals and romance and revenge and witches and –"


	8. Awakenings

The first thing Ella understood as she woke was comfort. The air around her was warm and dry and smelled strongly of pine. Quickly following this sense of peace was a wave of pain that rolled over her. Every muscle in her body ached as though she had been beaten. Ella groaned feebly and forced her eyes open.

She was in a large, spacious room. Her body was draped in a soft blanket and beneath it Ella could see that she was now clothed in an outfit of pink. The room around her was richly decorated with paintings and tapestries and shelves on the walls displayed pottery and other artistic trinkets. A blazing fireplace stood in the far wall, filling the room with a warm dancing light. In a cushioned armchair beside the fire sat an elderly woman, darning a little cotton sock and humming to herself.

 _Where am I?_  Ella wondered, taking in these unfamiliar sights in confusion. There was a strange cognition about this place that teased her mind. Yet the last place she remembered being was Gaston's house, which this place most certainly was not. Had her father come to collect her after what had happened with the hunter?

Determined to discover her location, Ella tried to sit up only to be stopped by the stiffness in her body. Once again a groan escaped her lips and the elderly woman near the fire glanced up.

"Oh, Ella dear, you're awake," she said sweetly, hoisting herself out of her chair and bustling to the enchantress' side. "Good. I was beginning to worry, you were asleep for so long."

"Do I know you?" Ella asked bemusedly, staring at the woman in confusion. Her voice sounded distantly familiar but the enchantress' mind was moving so thickly that she could not make a connection.

"Mrs. Potts," the woman said gently, placing a cool hand on Ella's forehead. The enchantress gasped in realisation. If she was with Mrs. Potts then she must be in the castle of Prince Adam. A sense of danger flooded into her as she tried to sort out her thoughts.

"How did I get here?" Ella asked Mrs. Potts frantically.

"That's the question of the day," Mrs. Potts said kindly. "We haven't any clue. Poor Babette found you outside the castle this morning, and apart from that we know nothing. How do you feel?"

"I'm a little sore," Ella admitted. "Other than that I'm just confused."

"How about something to eat? Are you hungry?" Mrs. Potts asked. Ella nodded weakly and Mrs. Potts moved to the nearby door and began speaking to someone outside. "Chip, honey, run to the kitchens and fetch Lumière to bring this poor dear some food and then scurry up to the master's quarters and tell him that she's awake."

The sound of light steps hurried away and Mrs. Potts re-entered the room to find Ella struggling to sit up, fear etched on her face.

"Ella, what's the matter?" Mrs. Potts asked nervously, placing a maternal hand on the enchantress' shoulder.

"I can't see the prince," Ella answered feverishly, fighting against the elderly woman's forceful grasp. "He doesn't like me. He'll kill me if he finds me here."

"Nonsense," Mrs. Potts said sternly, pushing Ella back down into the couch's cushions. "He's already been here and he didn't seem angry in the slightest. He ordered that I stay here and care for you and merely wanted to be know when you were awake so he could ask you a few questions."

"He's already been here?" Ella asked in amazement, relenting to Mrs. Potts purely out of shock. "He's seen me and he didn't have me thrown out?"

"Why would he do something like that?" Mrs. Potts asked with a laugh.

"I just thought –" Ella paused and looked up at the elderly woman. For once her mind was drawing a blank for alibis and she searched frantically for a plausible excuse. "Well I –"

The enchantress was saved the task of answering by a sharp knock on the door. "Come in," Mrs. Potts said, still eyeing Ella curiously. Lumière strode into the room, pushing a metal tray before him.

"So, the  _mademoiselle_  has finally awoken," Lumière said grandly, smiling at her. "I suspect you are famished. Would you like some food? I made it all personally."

" _Merci_ ," Ella said, slightly embarrassed by the effort they had all put into caring for her. "You shouldn't have gone to so much trouble."

"It was no trouble," Lumière assured her. "It's only a bowl of soup and a little bread. Warm food to rid your body of chill."

" _Merci_ ," Ella repeated and sat to eat the meal. The warm liquid heated her core and chased away the last traces of cold inside her.

As they watched her eagerly consume the food, Lumière pulled Mrs. Potts out of the enchantress' earshot and asked, "How is she?"

"Poor dear can't remember a thing," Mrs. Potts replied sadly. "When she awoke she had no idea where she was and she doesn't know how she got here either. I think this mystery will have to remain just that unless her memory returns. Right now she knows about as much as we do."

"What about where she's been?" Lumière asked. "She's been gone nearly three weeks! Surely she at least knows where she's been all this time."

"I didn't ask," Mrs. Potts admitted. "She's just barely woken up, I don't want to trouble her. With the condition she arrived in, I dare say her adventures were unpleasant. I wasn't about to bring up such things just after she'd awoken. We'll leave such matters to the master."

"Of course," Lumière said with a nod. "I should like to know though. Just out of curiosity."

"So would I," Mrs. Potts agreed. "I'd like to know what devil harmed her like that. She was murmuring in her sleep. It sounded like she was telling someone to stop."

"How strange," Lumière said thoughtfully. " _Pauvre fille_."

The pair lapsed into silence as they watched Ella eat. After a long pause Mrs. Potts said mindfully, "Someone should inform Cogsworth."

"Cogsworth?" Lumière asked, a sly look in his eye. "I take it their friendship has blossomed?"

"No, he still says that they are merely friends," Mrs. Potts sighed. "But they are very fond of each other, that much is certain. The poor lad has had a hard enough past, I won't bother him about it. He may do with his heart as he wishes."

"Has Cogsworth had problems with  _l'amour_?" Lumière asked in surprise. "I never fancied him much of a courter."

"If you want to know you will have to ask him yourself," Mrs. Potts said firmly. "I was told in confidence and I will not break that trust."

"Oh, of course," Lumière pouted dejectedly. "I understand."

A heavy knock on the door cut off any further conversation between the two. The door opened and Prince Adam entered, followed by a cautious Belle. Ella looked up and the spoon fell from her hand, clattering loudly in the empty bowl. Adam glanced at her briefly before turning his gaze to Lumière and Mrs. Potts.

"I would like to speak with her alone, if you don't mind," he said shortly.

"Yes, master," the servants complied. They both instantly left, Lumière stopping only to take the food tray. When the door closed behind them Adam strode around the face Ella.

Feigning servitude in case the prince had not yet recognised her, Ella inclined her head and muttered, "Your majesty."

"Your name is Ella,  _non_?" Adam asked courteously. Belle was hovering in the background, watching with interest.

"It is," Ella replied shakily.

"Why do you look so afraid, Ella?"

Ella swallowed before answering. "I am lost and alone, confused, without memory of how I got here, and I'm in the castle where I was transformed into an inanimate object for ten years. Is that not cause to be afraid, sir?"

"It is," Adam agreed. "But that's not why you are afraid. I saw your reaction when I entered the room. You are afraid of me. Is it because you remember me as a snarling beast, or do you have  _other_  reasons?"

Ella felt her breath catch. So the prince  _had_  recognised her. His last statement had made that clearly enough. Now it was only to face his judgement.

"So, you know who I am then?" Ella asked rhetorically, dropping her façade. In spite of herself, Belle gasped.

"You  _are_  the enchantress," Adam concluded and although he had already known this, he felt the realisation hit him forcefully. He was staring into the eye of the creature that had mercilessly ensorcelled him and taken away ten years of his life. A drop of fear slid into his veins and he felt it begin to course through his body. "Why have you come here?"

"To be quite honest, your majesty, I wish I knew." Ella sighed heavily and ran her fingers through her tangled hair. "The last I remember I was –" The enchantress stopped, her face tightening as a torrent of vivid memories attacked her. "I was far from here."

Adam's expression softened slightly as he watched the pained mask cover her face. He himself wore a similar look whenever he was forced to recall the dark years under the curse. "I must know, enchantress, what is the ill fate that has befallen you?"

Ella looked up in surprise. She had expected stinging inquiries but the prince seemed to be genuinely curious and certainly far more understanding than he had been when they first met.

"I don't know if it is appropriate for conversation," Ella settled.

"I heard of your injuries and the state in which you were found. Please, if there is a danger loose in this land that is powerful enough to hurt an enchanter, I need to know so that I can protect my people." The pleading in Adam's eye struck something within her and Ella relented.

"You need not fear for your people," the enchantress assured him. "The creature that harmed me is of no great power. My injuries were produced by –" Once more Ella let her sentence drift away as visions flashed behind her eyes. Quickly she shook herself and forced the words from her tongue. "I fell prey to a man and his lust."

Belle emitted a quiet shriek and Adam's eyes widened in horror. "What foul times we live in when a man might commit such crimes," he growled to himself. Then he returned his attention to Ella. "But how is this possible? Could you not prevent this action? Have you lost your power? "

"I have gotten myself into a predicament that makes me incapable of using my magic under certain circumstances." Adam raised an eyebrow curiously but Ella shook her head. "Family issues," she said shortly.

"I see," Adam said with a nod, not wanting to delve into the problems of enchanters. His own family disputes had been bad enough; the conflicts of a magical family were a terrifying thought. "Are your problems going to affect my castle?"

"I – I beg your pardon," Ella stammered. "I don't think I understand your question."

"If I let you stay here, will it be a danger to my castle?" Adam clarified. "That is provided you want to stay, of course." He smiled at the look of pure shock that covered the enchantress' face.

"You would truly let me stay?" she asked. "I didn't think you would trust me."

"I will be honest with you," Adam said slowly. "I still fear you greatly, and it is likely that I always will. Yet it has become clear to me that you also seem to fear me, and you have shown a great deal of courage in speaking to me. Out of respect for this I am willing to allow you to stay here if you can swear that you mean my household no harm."

"You have my word," Ella promised. "I wish your castle and its occupants nothing but good fortune and I will respect your word."

"This is good to hear," Adam said, his coy smile returning. "Now if you will excuse me, I have other matters to attend to. You are free to spend your time as you wish. Rest well." He inclined his head respectfully and departed.

Belle hung back and came to kneel directly in front of the enchantress. "It is nice to finally meet you in person," she said sincerely. "I have heard so much about you from the other servants, and you truly are as beautiful as Adam described you."

Ella flushed at the praise. She had never considered herself a very comely person, but apparently human attraction was different than enchanter.

"Likewise, it is nice to meet you," Ella replied. "You are truly a special person. I never realised how difficult it is to find a mortal who is capable of seeing past appearances. It is an honour and a privilege to meet you, Belle."

"Thank you, enchantress," Belle said with a faint blush.

"Please, call me Ella," the enchantress insisted.

"Thank you, Ella," Belle corrected herself with a smile. "I just wanted to give you my thanks for what you did."

"Your thanks? For what?" Ella asked in confusion.

"Well, I know it's actually a very silly thing, but I wanted to thank you for placing that spell on Adam." Ella's eyebrows shot up in amazement. "If you had not done so I may never have met him and I wouldn't be where I am now."

"That is peculiar logic," Ella said slowly, "but you make a valid point. In that case, you are welcome."

Belle smiled brightly. "I should be going; I have other plans as well. But I look forward to talking to you again soon."

"As do I," the enchantress said sincerely. With another broad smile, Belle rose and left the room, leaving Ella to her thoughts.

Disbelief at the way things had turned out filled every corner of her mind. Prince Adam had truly changed into an understanding man and she now had a place to stay while she recovered from her ordeals. Yet in the core of the wonder a fear smouldered.

With everything that had happened between her and Gaston, would she ever be able to return? Was her future now decided against her will? After how Gaston had treated her, Ella feared to return to him, yet if she did not she would be forced into an equally painful marriage. One month of her three had already been spent; time was running short.

 _For now I must focus on healing myself,_ Ella told herself.  _After that I will worry about what to do next._

Content with her plan, the enchantress rose to her feet. Her muscles were sore, but she was tired of sitting. Ella wandered passively around the room, examining the various artistic wares. While she moved her thoughts continued to swirl and one foremost thought seized most of her attention power. No matter how she tried, she could think of no believable response.

 _How_ did  _I get here?_


	9. Bonne Nuit

Alkyl was fuming as the blackness closed in around him. He had been in his chambers, working fervently on a project when the world had darkened around him. What fool had summoned him from his work without so much as a warning? As colour slowly began to seep back into his vision Alkyl called out his challenge.

"What sort of imbecile are you to take me unwillingly from my work?" he shouted, regaining his balance as the world became solid once more.

"The sort of imbecile that demands your presence," answered a silken voice.

Alkyl blanched and quickly spun to face the speaker. "Cyrix," he said in surprise. He quickly bowed his head in respect. "My apologies sir, I spoke rashly."

"Apologies accepted," Cyrix said with a twisted smile. "Although in truth it is I who should apologise. You have a higher status than I, after all. You are of noble blood, the son of a lord. I am merely a teacher."

"Nonsense," Alkyl said with a wave of his hand. "I am only the son of a lord, I have not yet taken up my post as a leader. Even then, you will always be my mentor, and thus higher than me."

"You flatter me," Cyrix said, the contorted smile disfiguring his face further.

"Why have you called me here?" Alkyl asked submissively.

"I wanted to inquire as to what knowledge you have on my daughter," Cyrix explained slowly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his desk and lacing his fingers together beneath his chin. "You've been interfering, haven't you?"

"What makes you believe that?" Alkyl asked calmly, maintaining perfect composure.

"She has left the village where the human lives and has returned to the castle," Cyrix said blandly. "Tryamon would never have done this willingly. What are you up to?"

Alkyl hesitated for a moment. He was proud of his plan and did not wish to disclose it to anyone else, least of all Cyrix in case he chose to interfere, but it was his duty to keep his mentor in complete confidence.

"I did interfere, sir," Alkyl admitted. "I knew that after her actions with the mortal that Tryamon would desire to be away from him for a while. So after the mortal man had left her I went to her and looked into her subconscious. In it I saw a wish to be safe and a longing for friends. Deeper I found feelings of enjoyment connected to several occupants of the nearby castle. Many of them were people she thought of as friends.

"With her mind weakened as it was in her delirious state, I was able to insert thoughts into it. I told her mind that she needed to get away from the man and seek out the protection of friends. Her confused mind latched onto the idea and she quickly focused all of her power on transporting herself to that castle."

"What good will this do?" Cyrix asked, evaluating the plan in his mind. "When she awakens and discovers what happened she will merely return. All it will cost her is a few days of time."

"No, it will cost much more than that," Alkyl said, grinning smugly at the ingeniousness of his idea. "There is a deep, overpowering fear of that mortal hunter instilled in her mind now. The most powerful thought in her mind is that desire for friendship. In this castle she can find just that, and in her state she will be loath to tear herself from that."

"So she will linger longer in the castle as she steels herself to face that mortal again," Cyrix said, slowly understanding the idea. "Yet this won't keep her away forever. Her desire for freedom is surely stronger than her longing for friendship."

"Yes, but it will certainly keep her away long enough," Alkyl stated. "One third of her time has already been wasted. If her wish for friends can keep her distracted long enough she will run short of time and become mine."

"It is a risky scheme," Cyrix said shrewdly, "but there is still a chance of success. It is clear that you put a lot of thought into this and it may well pay off."

"Thank you, sir," Alkyl replied. "Is that all you wished of me?"

"Yes, you may return to your work," Cyrix dismissed. "Thank you for disclosing this information with me."

A sinister grin crept over the younger enchanter's face as he turned away. Alkyl closed his eyes and felt himself transported back to his own study. Once there a quiet chuckle escaped him.

"Old fool," he muttered to himself. "Does he really think I'd tell him everything?"

Alkyl laughed aloud as he pondered all the more significant details that would ensure his success in this plot. All the deep research he had put into examining the emotions in the minds of Tryamon and several of the castle's inhabitants. There was so much more to his plan than he had revealed to his mentor.

Still filled with smug pride, Alkyl settled himself down into his chair and lifted up the silver-framed mirror on the table beside him.

"Tryamon," he said softly to the glass. The mirror blurred and then an image of Tryamon appeared on it. She was lying fast asleep on the sofa of the same room she had been in when he had last gazed upon her. The faint light of the smouldering fireplace lit her peaceful face and also illuminated the figure standing in the doorway behind her.

At this sight a broad smile covered the enchanter's façade. This only proved his theories. Now his success was guaranteed.

 _Oh yes, Tryamon,_  Alkyl hissed to the image in the glass.  _You will be mine now._

* * *

Cogsworth stopped and leaned against the wall to catch his breath. He was exhausted. All day he had thrown himself into his work with his whole energy and now he was starting to feel the effects.

 _It's remarkable_ , Cogsworth thought to himself,  _that with all this running around the castle I can still be out of shape._

Shaking his head at the unbelievable idea, Cogsworth pushed off the wall and resumed his journey. The day's work had been completed and he only had one task more he wished to do before retiring for the night. He stopped in front of a door and tapped on it lightly.

"Hello?" Cogsworth asked tentatively through the wood. He waited for several seconds but there was no answer. Again he knocked and questioned, and again he was met by only silence. Fear clenching his insides, Cogsworth grasped the door handle and pushed it open.

"Ella?" Cogsworth called softly into the darkness. The fire had died down to a faint glow, basking the room in a mysterious scarlet light. Cogsworth quickly surveyed the room and to his relief he found Ella, sleeping on the sofa.

A delicate smile touched his face and Cogsworth backed out of the room, closing the door behind him. He paused before turning away, staring at the dark wood.

" _Bonne nuit_ , Ella."


	10. Midnight Snacks

Ella bolted awake, cold sweat beaded on her forehead and her breath coming in rapid bursts. Horrific images still burned their vivid details into her mind, causing her heart rate to pound painfully against her chest. She twisted about, gazing around at her alien surroundings with a mixture of fear and an odd relief. Her senses slowly came back to her and she gradually began to realise that while this place was unfamiliar, it was certainly not the terrifying place of her dreams.

The enchantress warily untangled herself from the blankets and rose to her feet. A restless fear prodded her into movement and she began pacing in circles around the darkened room. As wakefulness slipped into her mind, memories flooded her eyes and she felt a comforting ease envelope her. This room was a sitting room, she recognised, in Prince Adam's castle. The embers in the grate had smouldered into dust and the world beyond the frosty windows was still shrouded in the cloak of nightfall, filling the room with looming shadows. Uneasiness still edging Ella's mind, she gestured at the empty grate and a gentle fire erupted within.

The dancing light greatly helped to relieve the enchantress' fear. She knew now the horrific images were indeed simply nightmares inspired by memories. Every sleep she had taken since she had arrived at the castle had been plagued with memories of her dark encounter with the hunter. Forcing her mind onto other things, Ella realised that her stomach was tight with hunger.

Eager for something to do, Ella set off for the kitchens. Mercifully, she by now knew her way easily through the castle because the oppressing darkness made everything look different. Moving expertly through the shadowed halls, the enchantress was soon pushing open the wooden door leading to the main kitchens.

Inside, Ella lit a candelabrum, fondly remembering the days when a man in the form of a very similar object had befriended her. The enchantress crept into a cupboard and discovered a half loaf of bread left from the evening's dinner. Taking this, Ella seated herself on the counter with the candles at her side and began eating, allowing her thoughts to wander.

Her mind mainly swirled around one central topic: the deal she had made with her father. Already one month of her allotted three had passed and she was further from earning the heart of Gaston than when she had begun.

 _I know that I must return to Molyneaux and repair things with Gaston,_  Ella acknowledged, sucking on a bit of hardened bread,  _but with all my heart I fear to do so._

Her body suddenly shaken by tremors at the thought of returning to Molyneaux, Ella realised what her real fear was. It wasn't returning to town and dealing with the emotions of a lustful man, it was leaving this place. Here was the first place she had felt welcome, the first time she had felt as if someone cared for her. Not even in her own home had she felt so loved. Her father only cared for her betrothal to Alkyl, seeing as it would promote him to a higher position and it gave him a great power over Alkyl's father since Ella was only one of two girls who was eligible to be married to him. Any of the enchanters with the bloodline of the ancient masters had to marry within that line to keep it pure. While there were many male enchanters of the line only a few women remained, most of whom were already wed.

 _My only use to my father is as a tool for bartering,_  Ella thought disdainfully.

Then she allowed her mind to wander to her many conversations in this castle. They were all so trustworthy and open, accepting her as their own no matter how different she was. Ella had been among humans long enough to understand that her appearance was an entirely alien thing among them and yet while she had received strange looks from many of the people in Molyneaux among other places, the servants here had treated her no differently than anyone else. It was an unusual feeling, being accepted for the first time in her life and especially among an entirely different race, although they didn't know that.

The door to the kitchens creaked slightly and Ella squeaked in alarm, jumping so badly she fell from the countertop. A startled voice in the doorway responded with a surprised yell and a whispered, "Who's there?"

Nervous at being discovered raiding the kitchens in the dead of night, Ella peered over the edge of the counter, searching for the figure in the dim light of the candelabrum. A silent sigh of relief escaped her as the enchantress recognised the stout profile. Dusting herself, Ella stood and saw the alarm leave Cogsworth's face as he identified her.

"Ah, Ella," he said with a smile, closing the kitchen door behind himself and approaching the counter opposite her. "It's good to see you up and about, although at an unusual hour I might add." Cogsworth set the candle he carried next to her own, providing a little more light.

"I was hungry," Ella admitted with a faint flush that was indiscernible in the dim glow. "I hadn't eaten since near midday so I came here to see if I could find some leftover food to eat." She lifted the half loaf of bread she had been eating and smiled slightly. "Although on the topic of late hours I could also say that this is a strange time for you to be here as well."

Cogsworth returned her faint smile. "I had an unpleasant dream and came to find something to settle my stomach." He leaned closer to the counter, surveying her face closely. "Miss Ella, have you been crying?"

Ella lifted a hand to her eyes and found that her lashes were wet and narrow trails of moisture ran the length of her cheeks. Confused, the enchantress wiped her eyes. "Apparently so, although I remember not why."

This was a lie, although she wouldn't admit the reason aloud to him. She knew she must have started crying at the thought of leaving the castle and returning to the cruel world outside.

"I'm sorry," Cogsworth said and when Ella met his eyes she could see that he genuinely meant it. In that moment Ella felt a burning desire to confess everything to him, to tell him of her deal with her father and the hopelessness of her situation, to feel the luxury of having a comforting soul to trust. Then, as quickly as it had come, it passed, driven away by the logical part of her mind. If she admitted everything to him he would learn that she was the enchantress who had taken away ten years of his life and he would never see her the same way again. The relief of being accepted would be gone.

Besides, her deal with her father wouldn't allow it.

"Would you like some bread?" Ella asked, offering out the loaf to him. He smiled at her in his wearied way and nodded. The enchantress broke the loaf in half and handed it to him.

"If you don't mind my asking," Cogsworth started and then blushing furiously shook his head and stopped. "No, I'm sorry, that would be disrespectful."

"What?" Ella asked curiously. "I promise I won't be offended."

Cogsworth took a deep breath and then spoke in a rapid voice, as if trying to get the question out before he lost his nerve. "I was just curious, the master never did tell us after all, but where did you go and what happened?"

Dark lines crossed Ella's face as she glanced down at the countertop, barring her mind from the volley of vivid images that seized her. Disturbed by the grimace on her face, Cogsworth mumbled quickly, "I'm sorry, it was impolite to ask. Clearly if you wanted people to know you would have told. You needn't answer. I'm sorry," he repeated.

"No, it's all right," Ella said to stop his apologetic rambling. "I knew that everyone would want to know eventually." The enchantress forced her face into a more pleasant semblance and glanced up at the head of house. "After all, my history at this castle is not exactly a trustworthy one. I first arrive as a stow-away hiding in closets, then after being revealed I simply disappear for weeks, only to return in horrible shape and seeking refuge."

"It was curious," Cogsworth agreed. "We all thought that perhaps you had some personal conflicts with the prince, what with how you left when he saw you and his interest in you."

"That's one way to put it," Ella said with an uncomfortable nod. "We certainly have a unique history, although the story behind that I will keep to myself, no disrespect."

"Of course," Cogsworth said, although the enchantress could see the curiosity bubbling behind his tired eyes.

"When I left the castle I walked to the nearest village," Ella began slowly, letting her eyes drift to a cabinet behind Cogsworth. "Once there I sought a room at the only inn. The innkeeper took pity on me and allowed me a room, saying that he would find some way for me to repay him later. Time passed and I grew fond of him, a young girl's infatuation, and one evening I went to his home. He was drunk, mind poisoned with memories of a dark past, and in his desire he…" Ella trailed off, unable to make herself finish, but she didn't need to. Cogsworth gasped in horror.

" _Mon dieu_ ," he swore softly, staring at the enchantress in enraged disbelief. "The world is descending into madness. If we continue this way we will soon be no worse than wild animals." Then his expression softened as he gazed at Ella. "I am so sorry, although my pity likely does little for you. I regret having brought up the topic. Is there anything I can do to ease your pain?"

Ella glanced up at him, fighting back the distress behind her eyes at the fresh wave of memories. The intensity of compassion in Cogsworth's face struck something in Ella's core. "You help enough just by being a friend," the enchantress replied and was rewarded with an embarrassed smile from him.

"Miss Ella, there is one more curiosity I long to have sated," Cogsworth admitted, the flush in his face darkening enough to be seen clearly in the dim candlelight. Ella nodded him on. "Babette told me that when she found you outside the castle, before you fainted, you asked for me by name. Is this truth?"

Surprised by this news, the enchantress thought hard but to her disappointment could not remember. "I couldn't say," she replied. "I remember nothing between my encounter in Molyneaux and waking up in the castle. I suppose it is probable however." Cogsworth met her eyes with a confused interest. "In my state of confusion it seems only obvious I would seek the aid of someone I considered a good friend."

Now Cogsworth's blush deepened so fiercely that it provided as much heat as the flickering candles. "You consider me such a good friend?"

Ella nodded. "The greatest. You are one of the people I have come to care for the most and since the first time we met I have always felt that you welcomed me. For an outcast, such a belief can leave lasting impressions. Also you have always treated me like an equal instead of as a nameless lesser. I respect you greatly and I enjoy our conversations."

"You are very perceptive and wise for being of as low a status as you claim," Cogsworth said observantly. "I find it difficult that a woman of such education and personality could find no place in this world."

"I am different," Ella said plainly. "People fear what they do not know."

"I don't fear you," Cogsworth said firmly.

"If you had not known me personally before you saw my true appearance you might not have said the same," the enchantress pointed out.

"Tosh," Cogsworth scoffed. "I befriended Lumière and he is a most peculiar looking man. Thin as a post with an enormous nose." Ella laughed and Cogsworth felt a smile touch his face. "I must admit that you have a point though. Your appearance is quite unlike anything I have yet to see. I think it fitting however, for you are quite unlike most people. Perhaps that is why we have become such close friends."

Ella felt a sense of satisfaction blossom inside her. Somebody considered her a friend! "Perhaps," the enchantress agreed.

Cogsworth smiled and glanced up at the window. The darkness of night had begun to lessen along the eastern horizon, turning the midnight blue into a lighter azure. "My goodness, most of the night has been spent."

"Oh no, I'm so sorry," Ella quickly apologised. "You need your sleep and I have kept you here."

"No, it's quite all right," Cogsworth responded. "I enjoyed talking with you. Besides, you need your sleep as well. You are still recovering." Cogsworth brushed the breadcrumbs from his dressing gown. "Perhaps when you are better I might show you around the castle. I'm sure you've seen enough of its halls but sometimes it is more pleasing to understand their beauty as architecture."

"That sounds delightful," Ella said with a smile.

"Excellent. Well, if you'll excuse me, I think I will head back upstairs and try to gather a few more hours of sleep."

"Sleep well, Cogsworth," Ella said as he left. Then she turned and leaned back against the counter. This night had been filled with so many strange emotions that she had never experienced before her deal with her father. Maybe, even if things went unsuccessfully, this experience would profit her. Learning more about humans and their complex psyche would make her job as an enchantress easier and more effective.

Filled with a sense of new purpose, Ella extinguished her candelabrum and returned through the darkened halls to the sitting room.

* * *

LeFou stared up at Gaston in wonder. It was difficult for his mind to grasp the truths his idol had confessed.

"So, she's gone?" LeFou asked for about the third time.

"Yes, she's gone," Gaston repeated impatiently. "How many times must I say it before you understand me, you dolt?"

"I'm sorry," LeFou muttered humbly. "But I thought she liked it here. She seemed to really like you, and you were so nice to her."

"I know that," the hunter replied, baffled as well but trying desperately not to show it to his lackey. "We had just settled our methods of repayment. Then later you arrived to tell me about the quarrel at the inn and I left with you to settle it. When I got back she had vanished."

"Wow," LeFou said with a shake of his head. "Ya think maybe she wasn't, you know,  _happy_  with the way you settled stuff?"

"Impossible," Gaston scoffed, shooting an angry glance at the stout man. "What woman would be against such a pleasure? In truth I wasn't having her repay me but granting her yet another favour."

"Oh, yeah, course," LeFou said quickly, although his stomach churned with displeasure. While he knew behaviour like Gaston's was quite typical, LeFou felt uncomfortable at the very thought and he lived a more chaste lifestyle. "Well she was from far away. Maybe they do things different wherever she's from."

"Word of this must not get out, LeFou," Gaston said sharply, ignoring the younger man's rationalisations.

"How we gonna do that? You two were together all the time. People will see she's not here. Everyone was thinking maybe you'd get married. It's only been one day and the guys at the tavern are already talking." LeFou gazed up at the hunter for answers that he could not dream up on his own.

"Tell them that…" Gaston stopped to scratch his chin. "Tell them she was daft in the head. Wait, no!" A cocky grin split his face and his eyes gleamed. "Tell them that she was an assassin sent to get close to me so that she could kill me."

"They gonna believe that?" LeFou asked. "Everyone loves you, who would wanna kill you?"

"A man I beat in a hunting tournament years ago, and he wanted revenge," the hunter supplied, weaving such a complex, full-proof story in his mind that he believed it himself.

"Yeah okay," LeFou said with an eager nod. He was used to Gaston's elaborated stories by now and was impartial to spreading them, whether they bore any truth or not. As Gaston kept telling him, image was the most important thing a man could have and LeFou would never dare contradict anything that would harm his friend's reputation. "So, how did you get away?"

"Well she lured me in, trying to seduce me and lower my defences. But as she began undressing I saw the knife at her hip," Gaston explained. "When she realised I was on to her she drew the knife and came at me. She was a strong little wench but nobody is stronger than Gaston. I fought her off and she begged for my mercy. Being generous as I am, I allowed her to live so long as she left town that very night and never returned, and that she also must give up her dark profession."

LeFou quivered with excitement. Although he knew the tale was fabricated, he still felt a thrill every time he listened to one of his friend's stories. "Amazing," the lackey said adoringly.

Gaston grinned smugly. "I know, I am, aren't I?"


	11. Love & War

Ella stared in amazement at the towering shelves filled with thousands of leather-bound volumes. She was astonished at the vast collection of written tomes contained within one place. Belle smiled with satisfaction.

"This is how your people bequeath their knowledge?" Ella inquired, brushing her hands over the soft bindings.

"Some of these are," Belle said with a nod, gesturing at the shelves along the eastern wall. "Those books are our collection of historical texts. Fascinating stories of wars and conquests, along with books of customs and theology. But most of these here are fictional."

"Fictional?" Ella repeated carefully. "I do not know that word."

"Fictional. It means made up. Fictional stories are created entirely by the imagination of the writer."

"Remarkable," Ella breathed, regarding the thick volumes with a new admiration. "It is a wonder to think that a person could conceive ideas marvellous enough to merit so many words in its telling." Ella lifted a book from a nearby shelf and ran her fingertips over the embossed silver lettering. "What is this one titled?"

Belle approached her and glanced at the hunter-green cover. A delighted smile crossed her face. "This is called  _Cinderella_. It is a good example of a genre of fiction called 'fairy tales.' Fairy tales, as you can probably guess, involve magic to help the hero reach his or her happy ending, and usually incorporate a moral as well."

"Does the hero always find a happy ending?" Ella asked wistfully.

"Always," Belle said with finality, then hesitated. "Well, almost always anyway. There are some writers who enjoy making dark and vicious tales, especially a pair called the Grimm Brothers, but even most of those ended well enough."

Ella began scanning through the book's pages, gazing at its elaborate illustrations. "This looks like a charming tale," Ella commented, closing the book again. "Does this one end well?"

"You should read it and find out," Belle suggested.

"I cannot read runes," Ella admitted. "None of my people can, save for maybe a few of the elders who spent years among mortals."

"Your people do not read?" Belle asked in amazement, seemingly horrified at the very thought. "How do you convey information then?"

"My people possess an ability to simply embed our stories within an object. Afterwards when someone touches it they instantly know the story. It is much faster than writing it and it eliminates the possibility of falsehood. I have never read anything in my lifetime."

"How sad," Belle said with genuine conviction. "Well it is a rather short story. Would you like it if I were to read it to you?"

"I would be honoured," Ella said eagerly. Belle led her over to a cushioned bench and the two settled down beside each other. Belle opened the book and laid it against her knees. As she read in a clear voice, Ella gazed at the detailed pictures, imagining them moving along with the words Belle spoke. The enchantress was captivated by the pure magical ability of these scribed runes to create dazzling images within her head.

When Belle finally closed the book with a contented sigh Ella glanced up at her. "Surely you must be also an enchantress. Just by speaking you formed scenes inside my head and as you told the story it was also played in my mind. Where did you learn such a skill?"

Belle laughed. "I am no enchantress and anyone who can read can do the same. The magic is not in me but in the words. That is the beauty of a book; it can take you to far off places and through exhilarating adventures while you still rest in the comfort of your chair."

Ella stroked the cover of the book with bewilderment. "I see why you love reading so much. Why do some of your people not enjoy such an experience?"

"Some people find the task of reading too tiresome," Belle said sadly. "For some people it is more difficult to understand the letters and create words from them very quickly so they lose interest before they can understand what the story is telling. I guess I was simply blessed in comprehending the words so easily."

"Blessed indeed," Ella agreed with a smile. Over the last two days Ella had spent a great amount of time with Belle and she had grown to enjoy her company. Belle was so easy to be friends with and she was very welcoming. For the first time in her life Ella understood how it felt to belong somewhere. Belle made her feel like they had been friends forever and there was nothing more natural than spending time together. "Thank you for reading to me," the enchantress said sincerely. "I liked it a lot."

"Perhaps if you can find time I can teach you how to read yourself," Belle suggested. She smiled when Ella's face lit up with joy. "Very well, I will see to it that you learn to read. That is a promise. I would be sad to see someone with such a joy for books not be able to enjoy them."

"Thank you so much, Belle," Ella beamed. "You are indeed a special person."

Belle blushed lightly. She glanced down at the book in her lap and her face grew serious. "Enchantress?"

"Ella," the enchantress insisted.

"Sorry. Ella, could you possibly show me how your people's method of reading is done?" The pure curiosity in Belle's face reminded Ella of a young child's.

"I can try," Ella said slowly. "I'm not certain that it works in the same way for mortals. Enchanters experience different sensations and emotions than mortals do so some messages may get confused. I will try though."

The enchantress stood and strode toward a stone statue, smiling vaguely at the familiar figure of a hawk. Closing her eyes, Ella placed a hand atop the bird's head and began speaking in a low voice. Her words were not French, but the language of her people, a more powerful and deadly language than any spoken on Earth. As she spoke a faint light shone from beneath her eyelids and a trail of silvery air slid from her fingertips and engulfed the statue. Finally Ella opened her eyes and the white light faded, although the silvery sheen around the stone did not.

"Alright, I placed into this statue a memory connected to its semblance," Ella said carefully. "It is much easier to insert a memory into something if it has similarity to the object. I do not actually know what memory it was, as there were so many connected with this figure that I got rather lost within my own mind. Hopefully if you touch it you will witness the memory instantaneously within your head. But do so carefully; once you receive this memory it will stay with you, it will not disappear when you lift your hand from the statue."

"I still want to try," Belle said confidently. "This statue looks as you did, so logically your memory will have some connection to your time here at the castle. Nothing all that bad happened to you here, did it?"

"No, my times here are some of my happiest," Ella confessed.

"Very well then." Belle rose and, after taking a deep breath, placed her hand on the hawk's head. Behind her eyes swirled a chaotic stream of images and her heart twisted with a variety of emotions. A candle and a clock. Joy, surprise, pain, regret. Belle's eyes snapped open and she quickly withdrew her hand from the stone.

"What was it?" Ella asked worriedly. "I didn't think any of my experiences outside the castle would connect to this. I'm so sorry Belle."

"No, it's all right." Belle placed a hand on her chest and found her heart beating rapidly. "It wasn't a memory from outside the castle. I recognised Cogsworth and Lumière. It was a conversation you held with them the night Adam sent me home to help my father."

"Oh," Ella said, still regretting letting Belle try this particular experience.

"I never really thought about whether you had any thoughts after casting the spell," Belle said slowly, surveying the enchantress with her wide brown eyes. "You truly regretted it, didn't you?"

"Not at first," Ella said with a sigh. "I assumed that anyone who could tolerate working with such an arrogant man could only be equally distasteful. But after a while of spending time with them, getting to know them all, I felt sorry that I had cast the spell over the entire household. I wish dearly that I had not been so hasty in my words and cursed only the prince. I was terrified after you left that my careless decision might have ruined the lives of such wonderful humans. There is nothing in my life that I have ever regretted more."

Belle was struck silent by the pure conviction in the enchantress' voice. It was clear that she meant those words with her whole heart.

"You said that enchanters experience different emotions than humans," Belle said after a long while. "Are there some human emotions that you do not feel? Or do you know more emotions than us?"

"Many human emotions I cannot recall ever experiencing but I am sure there are some that have." Ella sighed sadly and turned her gaze to the wide window. "It is said that enchanters cannot feel one certain emotion, that we were magically torn from it centuries ago so as to be able to fulfil our jobs without emotional interference. No enchanter has ever claimed to know the feeling and I fear that perhaps the myths are true. There is nothing more terrifying to me than the notion that there is truth to my father's words."

"What emotion?" Belle asked softly, aware that the enchantress was deep in thought and that they had reached a soft topic.

Ella sighed again, this time with a longing that made Belle's heart ache, before answering in a quiet voice. "Love."

* * *

LeFou sat loyally beside Gaston's chair in the tavern, listening vacantly as the hunter once again retold his heroic encounter with the dark assassin. LeFou had heard the tale so often it no longer held any novelty for him. So once again, as he had many times in his life, LeFou put on an attentive face and allowed his mind to wander.

His thoughts twisted to the co-star in Gaston's dramatic story. LeFou already knew that what Gaston said of Ella to the villagers was untrue, but for the first time in his life the lackey was doubting whether he had placed his allegiance in a noble man. LeFou knew his friend had not told him all of what had happened between him and Ella, and LeFou shuddered to think what horrors Gaston might have submitted her to.

While LeFou would never have admitted it to anyone aloud, inside he knew that most of his unease for the young woman was because of her kindness to him. His whole life LeFou had been tormented and ridiculed for being a midget, for being a slow-thinker, for never being good enough for anything. Even though he had escaped much of this torture when Gaston had taken a liking to him, he still caught the whispered jokes in the streets and the tavern. And Gaston's treatment was almost as bad as the anything the other men could have forced upon him. LeFou knew that he was blessed to have gained recognition from such a prestigious man as Gaston but he still wondered what would have come of him had his life taken a different path.

 _I'd probably be dead by now,_  LeFou thought cynically.  _Without Gaston to protect me I'd have been killed by my own stupidity._

Still LeFou couldn't help but remember the gentle young Ella, with her kind words and sweet smile. The smile that had also shown LeFou that she had actually seen him as a person, not just as Gaston's shadow. The feeling of being known was something that LeFou was unaccustomed to and he found it exhilarating. For that simple gesture LeFou had taken a liking to Ella and now he wondered whether it was safe to associate himself with a man who could so cruelly use such a kind woman.

"Isn't that right, LeFou?" Gaston asked loudly, not even glancing down at his sidekick.

"Darn right," LeFou answered automatically with as much enthusiasm as his surprised mind could offer.

"Exactly," Gaston said, hardly noticing that LeFou had responded at all. "Well I have to be up early for a hunting trip so I'm going to turn in." Gaston stood and LeFou hastily followed suit. The hunter strode easily across the room, gaining the occasional pat on the back from the admiring men, and into the cool night air. Darkness had settled hours before and LeFou inhaled deeply of the clean air, allowing it to refresh his confused mind. The pair had walked for a short while before LeFou dared speak.

"Gaston?" the lackey asked tentatively. Gaston glanced down at him with his forehead furrowed and jerked his head to show he was listening. "I was wondering, why did you have to invent such an elaborate tale to cover Ella's leaving? Wouldn't it have been simpler to say that she was leaving to visit a sick family member or something?"

Gaston laughed heartily as if LeFou's question had been a joke. "It might have been but if I said something like that then the villagers would have expected her to return eventually and I have no proof that she might. Also if she were leaving to visit family she would have been more likely to leave with the morning instead of in the dead of night."

"Oh," LeFou sighed with defeat. "I suppose that does make sense."

"Of course it does," Gaston said sharply, then his voice softened into a jovial tone again. "Besides, this tale made me seem far more exciting. Remember, it's all about the image."

Gaston opened his front door and entered, gesturing for LeFou to follow him inside.

"What if she does return though?" LeFou asked curiously. "What will you do?"

"If that traitorous wench dares come back after the way she behaved I will see that she is punished properly," Gaston said with a twisted smile. "The entire village believes her to be a dark assassin after my blood. I will let them deal with her as they will." LeFou shuddered as he began to image the horrors the villagers could inflict upon her.  _You go after the hero and the fan club turns wicked,_  LeFou thought grimly. The lackey found himself praying that Ella would never return to Molyneaux.

Gaston started speaking again, far too calmly for someone who had just unfairly sentenced a woman to unimaginable torture. "Now with her gone from me, though, I can return my mind to more important matters."

"What matters?" LeFou asked curiously.

Gaston's face darkened as he glanced into the empty fire-grate. "Belle." His voice came out as a growl and LeFou was frightened by the intensity in his face. Then the vision passed and Gaston looked up at LeFou. "Light us a fire, LeFou. I'll need the light to devise my plans."

LeFou didn't ask what plans the hunter had in mind, instead springing out of his seat to set the logs near the fireplace within. As LeFou struck the tinderbox he heard the chair groan in protest as Gaston sat. Soon the flames crept up around the soft bark of the wood and cast their dancing light around Gaston's room.

"I have to get her back," Gaston said as LeFou took a seat across from him at the table. Gaston looked up at him but his expression was not the one that LeFou expected. Instead of longing and earnestness the hunter's features were tainted with fury and rage. "I can't let that filthy monster win. I shall be victorious. I am Gaston, the great hunter. I can't lose to a beast!"

LeFou sat and watched him silently, not trusting himself to speak. His legs were quaking with fear at this new ferocity and LeFou desperately hoped that Gaston wouldn't ask him to go get anything. The lackey waited as Gaston fumed for a few moments and then began muttering to himself about how he would kill the beast. After what seemed like hours Gaston finally slammed his fist down on the table, startling LeFou so badly he fell straight off his chair.

"I have it, LeFou!" the hunter announced as LeFou climbed shakily back into his seat. "I've come up with a perfect plan." Gaston hastily began relaying the details of his plot and LeFou listened, trembling with fear, as the evil scheme was unfolded before him.

Gaston finished with a wicked grin, accompanying the words with corresponding gestures. Then he laughed richly.

"Yes, soon that filthy beast's head will be mine," the hunter told his sidekick confidently. "As will Belle. Yes, they will be mine."

LeFou sat quaking with terror as vivid images of Gaston's triumph played in his mind until his fear overcame him and he collapsed in a dead faint.


	12. Déjà Vu

Days had passed and Ella had still put off leaving the castle. She enjoyed spending her days either in the company of Belle or Cogsworth. With Belle she examined books in the library where Belle was attempting to teach her to read, or wandering in the gardens discussing their interests. Occasionally Adam accompanied them but very rarely, as he was preparing to announce his return and resume his place on the throne.

When Belle was busy Ella would follow Cogsworth around as he scurried the lengths of the castle trying to keep matters in order. Ella didn't get many chances to speak with him except when they were travelling between destinations, but she assisted him with many tasks and they learned much of each other while they worked.

Yet finally Ella had realised that she had only a month and a half left to earn the heart of her obstinate hunter. The time had long passed that she should have relented her pleasure to complete her task. She knew that she must leave.

As darkness fell Ella closed herself up for the night in the guest bedroom where she had been relocated upon her recovery. Casting her glance one last time around the familiar place, Ella sighed and fought back the tears that threatened her eyes. Then blackness overwhelmed her and she felt herself being pulled through space. When the colour returned she was once again standing at the entrance to Molyneaux.

Wishing to not attract attention before she could speak with Gaston, Ella moved around the edge of town until she reached the hunter's house. Praying for protection, she knocked gently on the door.

Seconds later it opened to reveal a dishevelled LeFou, trembling and clutching a large pint of ale. He gasped in surprise when he saw the enchantress.

"Ella, what are you doing here?" LeFou hissed.

"I must speak with Monsieur Gaston," Ella told him urgently. LeFou cast his eyes up and down the silent street before grabbing her hand and pulling her quickly inside. He shut the door and turned to face her.

"Gaston's not here," LeFou told her, his voice shaking. His eyes were darting around nervously. "And you can't be either. If any of the villagers see you, you'd be better off dead."

"What?" the enchantress asked, LeFou's fear starting to frighten her as well.

"Gaston's turned the whole town against you," LeFou answered and then took a deep swallow. He wiped the foam from his chin and continued, "He was so mad when you left, he told everyone you're an assassin. If they see you they're gonna hurt you. You can't stay here."

"But I must," Ella insisted, the corners of her eyes starting to burn. Helplessness and fear rushed into her with each breath. "I have to gain his love or I will have no reason left to live." The tears escaped her as she collapsed into one of the chairs. LeFou dropped his mug and hopped onto the seat in front of her.

"Don't be silly," he said gently. "There're lots of other guys, better guys. Don't be fooled just 'cause Gaston's popular. Under that he's a bully. And a liar. You can do better."

"You don't understand," Ella sobbed. "If I cannot earn his love then I will be forced to marry a man even crueller than Gaston." LeFou looked at her in confusion. "I am –  _cursed_. I would rather live my years with Gaston than be forced into marriage with the horrid man waiting for me at home. He gets pleasure from others' pain and he is in a position to cause it without consequence. To him I will be merely a trophy; a legal matter."

"Gee, I don't wanna give you the bad news, but life with Gaston will be the same," LeFou sighed. "If I didn't know, I'd think you were talking 'bout Gaston anyway."

"No, here I have a chance," Ella said, clinging to what hope she had left. "The – curse – merely states that I must earn his love. That does not mean I must marry him. I need only earn his love long enough to free myself and then I may leave to pursue life as I wish it."

"I wish I could help, Ella," LeFou said sincerely, "but Gaston don't love no-one, 'cept maybe himself. Not even Belle. He's only goin' after her tonight so he can win."

"What!" Ella choked.

"Yeah, he came up with a way to kill the beast man and catch Belle," LeFou admitted. "He's already left. He might not be the smartest guy, but he  _is_  the greatest hunter in the world. Soon as Gaston reaches the castle that beast man'll be as good as dead."

"How is he to do it?" Ella asked insistently.

"Climb the walls into the bedchambers," LeFou explained. "He watched the castle to figure where they sleep. Now he's gonna ambush the beast man and use him as bait to make Belle marry him."

"I cannot let this happen," the enchantress breathed. "It is my duty to see that justice is not ignored." She kissed LeFou's forehead gently. "Thank you, friend. I must go now. Belle and Adam's life may depend on it."

"Please, save her." LeFou gazed up at Ella with pleading eyes. " 'Sides you, Belle was the only person to ever be real nice to me. I don't want him to get her."

"I swear it," Ella said with a nod. She raced out of Gaston's house and into the woods behind. Then she closed her eyes and transported herself back to exactly where she had left only a short while before.

Nearly tripping in her haste, Ella threw open her bedroom door and tore down the silent corridor. It seemed the entire castle had retired for the night. Her feet made virtually no noise against the cold stones as she made her way up several flights of winding stairs. As she entered the hall outside Adam and Belle's chambers she slowed to a silent walk, listening for sounds of distress beyond the door. Just as she placed an ear to the wood, Belle's gasp of horror resounded. Ella hastily opened the doorway.

Belle stood in the entrance to her room, hands clasped over her mouth at the sight before her. Adam faced Belle from the doorframe of his own room, his face full of fear and rage, his hands tied securely behind his back. Directly behind him stood Gaston, smiling triumphantly with a hunting knife against the prince's neck.

At the sound of the door all three glanced in her direction. Belle and Adam's faces brightened slightly but the hunter's soured.

"You," he growled. "What are you doing here?" Then suddenly he laughed. "Come searching for my forgiveness?"

"Hardly," Ella answered. "I came to help my friends."

Gaston's featured darkened again. "You came to save these people?" he inquired, pulling the knife more snugly against the prince's skin. "A crazy wench and her deluded monster. These are the people you call friends? I'm glad I left you when I did."

"You didn't leave me," Ella spat, vivid memories flooding into her mind and building her rage. "I managed to escape before you could hurt me again. I came here to find my friends. Now, I think you would be wise to heed the prince's orders and leave here for good."

Gaston laughed richly. "The prince? This crazed man has you believing that he is the  _prince_. I thought it was bad enough that he believed it himself, but to convince others... This is remarkable." He laughed again, the jerking movement cutting into the skin on Adam's neck. Belle gasped and shuddered as she saw the crimson trails against his flesh.

"What do you want, Gaston?" Belle said sharply. "What are you trying to prove with this?"

"I want the same thing I've always wanted, Belle," the hunter replied. "I want you. And I will have you as mine."

"I will never love you," Belle cried hysterically. "When will you learn that?"

"I don't need you to  _love_  me," Gaston spat contemptuously. "Love is for fairy tales. I just need you to submit."

"Submit!" Adam growled. Gaston tightened his grip on the prince. "To think you called me the monster."

"Silence," Gaston barked and the blood on Adam's neck thickened. "Belle, you will submit to me or your beast will lose his head."

Belle gasped in horror. "You wouldn't!"

"Try me," Gaston threatened. "Belle, come to me."

"Belle, no," Adam said sharply. "Leave now and save yourself." Belle hesitated until she saw the hand holding the knife twitch. She moved slowly until she was standing directly in front of Adam, staring into the hunter's blazing blue eyes over the prince's shoulder. Belle weakly placed her hand against Adam's stomach and Ella saw pain and despair flash through both pairs of eyes.

 _Belle,_  the enchantress thought desperately. As her eyes flashed around the room her mind was slowly beginning to form a plan.  _Belle, get Adam and yourself out of the way. Save yourselves and I will deal with the rest._  Belle's eyes flickered to Ella briefly, her face filled with confusion, almost as if she had heard the enchantress' frantic pleas.  _Please let her have heard..._

"That's good, Belle," Gaston said with a twisted smile. "Kiss me."

Belle's eyes widened with fear and Adam scowled darkly, although he refrained from speaking as his neck was already coated with a steady stream of blood. Gaston's hand shifted over Adam's neck threateningly. Belle stepped forward and raised herself onto her toes. Gaston let his eyes drift almost closed as Belle moved nearer.

Suddenly Ella swung her arm at the hand holding the blade. The knife spun out of Gaston's hand and stuck firmly in the wall. Belle threw herself against Adam and they tumbled to the ground. In a flash Ella darted forward and threw her entire weight against the hunter. Surprised by the sudden changes, Gaston lost his balance and stumbled backward into the sitting room window. The glass buckled beneath his weight and with a startled yell the hunter fell through the pane.

Ella darted past Belle, who was hastily untying Adam's hands, and approached the window frame. Clinging helplessly to the sill was Gaston, his face and arms bloody from the shattered glass fragments falling to the earth below. When he looked up into Ella's face, the enchantress saw the hunter looking genuinely afraid for the first time. All boldness had fled from his features and his eyes were wide with panic.

"Ella," Gaston breathed. His arm muscles flexed as he attempted to lift himself back into the room. He rose a short distance until the glass in his hands made it impossible for him to move any further.

The enchantress gazed down at him mercilessly. "You once mistook me for an angel. I told you that I was far from it, and I wasn't lying."

"You can't just let me die," Gaston gasped. His arms heaved again until he yelped in pain and fell again. His left hand slipped from the stones and he hung on with only one hand.

"I don't plan on it," Ella said, leaning forward and grabbing Gaston's free hand with both of hers. "I'm better than you." She leaned back, bracing her legs against the windowsill for leverage. Gritting her teeth fiercely she heaved backwards, groaning with the effort of trying to lift a man nearly four times her own weight, and the hunter rose a few inches.

Eager for strengthening his hold, Gaston released the sill momentarily to reach for a better grip. In that moment the hunter's full weight pulled upon Ella's body. She yelped in surprise and fell forward onto the cracked glass frame. The shards of glass still attached to the pane stabbed angrily into the enchantress' stomach. The sudden pain in her abdomen loosened her grasp and to her horror she felt his hand slip through her own.

Gaston's terrified yell split the night air as he fell into the darkness below.


	13. The Sand Continues to Fall

Ella hung limply over the windowsill, her hands reaching pointlessly towards the darkness. Tears rolled down her face and blood dripped from her fingertips as she gazed down at where she had last seen Gaston before his body had disappeared into shadow. Her last hope, her last chance at freedom, was gone.

"Ella?" Belle's voice asked tentatively from behind. When the enchantress didn't move Belle approached her side. She quickly noted the blood streaming down Ella's arms before she gasped in horror. "Adam, help me. Ella's hurt." Ella felt herself being lifted from the glass and then laid on the floor. Belle and Adam leaned over her.

"Ella?" Belle said softly.

The enchantress flicked her gaze to Belle, her eyes filled with a hopeless terror. "He's gone," she whispered.

Belle gently touched Ella's cheek. "You tried your best. There was nothing else you could have done." Ella suppressed a sob and sat up. "Careful, you are hurt."

The enchantress glanced down at where her dress had been torn in several places and gave the deep punctures in her skin a cursory look. "I'll be fine," Ella assured Belle. "I'm an immortal, remember?"

"Enchantress, I must thank you," Adam said suddenly. "You may have just saved my life and Belle's honour. I am grateful."

"I also just allowed one of your town's most important men to be killed on your property," Ella said darkly. "This will cause many problems for you."

"And I am still alive to deal with these problems," Adam countered. "No amount of doubt will sway my appreciation, enchantress." Ella smiled weakly. "That hunter knew you, didn't he?"

"We've met," Ella said elusively. Adam surveyed her curiously and Ella sighed. "I don't mean to betray your trust, so I owe you the truth."

"That is where you were all that time," Belle said quietly. "When you vanished after the spell was broken, you went to Molyneaux. When you came back, it was because–" Belle stopped, terror covering her face. "It was him."

"Let me start from the beginning," Ella suggested carefully. "You have to know how this all started before you can fully understand what's going on." Belle and Adam both nodded her on. Ella took a deep breath and began her story from when her father first summoned her to his office. For over an hour Ella recounted how she had been forced into her father's bargain to free herself from the arranged marriage; how she had accidentally saved Gaston's life, believing him to be the prince, therefore sealing her fate; her experiences in Molyneaux; her later return to the town and her encounter with LeFou, leading up until this moment.

"Now that he is gone I have lost my last chance at freedom," Ella concluded with another sigh. The enchantress glanced up at her rapt audience and the ghost of a smile crossed her face. "It was worth it to know that my friends are safe."

Adam blushed self-consciously. "Then my gratitude is doubly so that you forfeited so much for Belle and I."

"Noble but foolish." The deep voice startled Ella, and Belle gasped as she looked up. The enchantress and the prince followed her gaze and Ella shot to her feet with a wince of pain. The ebony-skinned man smiled darkly.

"Father," Ella said shortly and heard Belle gasp again.

"Tryamon," Cyrix replied. "I think it's about time you gave up on this absurd nonsense and came home."

"No," Ella said plainly.

"Your mortal is dead," Cyrix scowled. "There is no reason for you to prolong this any longer. The bargain is over, now you must fulfil your half."

"No, the bargain is not through," the enchantress said solidly. "You gave me until my twenty-first birthday. I still have over a month until that time and I intend to see it out."

"Quit this foolishness," Cyrix roared, his ice blue eyes flashing angrily.

"I will not," Ella shouted. "Would you go back on your deal?"

Cyrix glared at her with hatred etched firmly in his features as the tension in the room built. Finally he growled, "I will not go back on my bargain and I will grant you this last month, but this changes nothing. Before midnight has struck on the night of your birthday, you will be married to Alkyl. You have my word." With that Cyrix spun on his heel and vanished. As soon as he had gone Ella fell backwards, clutching her stomach. Adam caught her and gently lowered her to the floor.

"Ella, are you all right?" Belle asked nervously. The enchantress forced a light smile.

"I will be fine," Ella insisted. "Unfortunately where I cannot die, I can still feel pain. I will survive though. I have lived with far worse."

"That was your father," Adam said rhetorically. Ella nodded. "So not all of your race is coloured the same as you."

"We all have dark skin, yes," the enchantress explained. "However, only the woman have white hair, whereas the men have black. And our eyes come in many shades, not simply black as mine are."

"How strange," Adam commented pensively.

"What is so strange about it? Your people come in many different colours as well, even their skin tones vary," Ella noted.

"True," Adam said and his face flushed again.

"Ella, will you truly only be here for another month?" Belle asked, her voice trembling.

"I am afraid so," Ella answered remorsefully. "I made a bargain and it would mean my death to go back on my word."

"Perhaps if you are to suffer the remainder of your life than it would be easier to allow yourself to die," Adam said softly. Belle gasped in horror but Ella met his gaze firmly.

"The many times I remember hearing you say similar things to yourself," the enchantress said sadly. "Yet my own death could not be as simple as that. My people cannot kill themselves, just as we cannot be killed by mortals. The only way for an enchanter to die is if a spell goes wrong or to allow another enchanter to kill us. Or to break a promise.

"It is impossible to purposely fail a spell, and no other enchanter would dare come against me for I am of a noble bloodline and it would mean everlasting torture for him or her. The same fate that awaits me should I break my word. I would be submitted to years of mental and physical torture until my magic wore away and took my immortality with it. After that it would be to simply suffer it out until my body gave in."

"I am so sorry, Ella, that you should have to suffer for us," Belle said, placing a hand on Ella's.

"Don't be, Belle," the enchantress countered. "This way at least I can know that I did something good and that I will not be bound needlessly. I wish now to simply enjoy my last month among friends, if you still wish me here."

"Of course," Adam said. "After everything you have done for us it would be an honour. And also, I wish you to stay here as a friend."

"Nothing you could do would mean more to me than that," Ella said sincerely.

"Then it is done," Adam said with a nod of finality. "Now I think it is about time your injuries were tended to. Let us return you to your room and we will see that you are taken care of."

"Don't fuss over me," Ella insisted. "I'll just lie down and I should be fine in the morning."

"Let us at least bandage your stomach," Belle said firmly. "Even if you can't die, losing too much blood can't be good for you."

Ella glanced up at the prince. "The same could be said for you," she commented, gesturing at Adam's crimson stained neck.

Adam brushed a hand over his skin and allotted it a partial glance. "Then it seems we are both in need of medical attention." Ella forced a smile as Adam and Belle helped her walk back down to her room.

* * *

Ella yawned and stretched in bed, wincing slightly as her stomach flexed her sores. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Ella sat up and glanced around. To her surprise she found someone sitting at her bedside.

"Mademoiselle Ella, you've awoken," Cogsworth said with a smile. He set aside the papers he had been reading.

"Cogsworth?" the enchantress asked in confusion. "What are you doing here?"

"Belle asked that someone watch over you, and since I had few duties for the day I volunteered," Cogsworth explained. "It was also convenient because I was able to organize and plan the prince's wedding dinner while I was here."

"Why does Belle want me watched?" Ella asked, her suspicions rising.

"She was worried about your injuries," Cogsworth said gently, understanding the enchantress' nerves. "She feared they might get infected and cause you illness." The head of house leaned his elbows on the edge of her bed and looked directly into her eyes. "The prince told everyone what you did for him and Belle. You saved their lives. They will never doubt your loyalties. You are safe here, Ella."

Ella placed a hand on Cogsworth's and gave him a grateful smile. "I guess being an outcast for so long makes me a little paranoid."

"It's fine," Cogsworth replied, returning her smile. "I understand."

"You are different than the others here, aren't you?" Ella asked. She had always suspected it but had never bothered to voice it.

"How did you guess?" Cogsworth asked with a hint of sarcasm.

"You speak differently than the others," Ella answered, not catching the tone in his voice. "Their voices seem to come from within their necks but yours comes from your mouth and nose. It makes different noises."

Cogsworth smiled at Ella's innocent comment. "Yes, I am not from France. I was born and raised in England."

"England," Ella repeated, rolling the word over her tongue. "If this is not your home then why do you live here?"

"France is my home now," Cogsworth said, his eyes drifting from hers to the wall behind her. "I cannot bear to live in London any longer."

Ella set her other hand on Cogsworth's, drawing his gaze back to her face, and asked, "Why not?"

Cogsworth looked deep into her eyes and the enchantress saw a long burning pain beneath the surface. With a choked gasp, the head of house moved his free hand to over his chest. From beneath his tunic he drew out the silver chain and brushed his fingers over the golden ring.

"That is a love ring," Ella whispered. Cogsworth allowed a soft chuckle at her phrasing but nodded.

"This was the ring I gave to my wife when I asked for her hand in marriage," Cogsworth explained, removing the chain from his neck and letting Ella examine it.

"It is beautiful," the enchantress said quietly as she handed it back to him. "So if you are married, where is your lady?"

"She is gone," Cogsworth answered in a voice barely more than a whisper. Tears clouded the corners of his eyes but the relief of confiding in a friend motivated him to continue speaking. "After we had been married for a while I came home from work to find that she had been killed by a robber."

"Oh, Cogsworth," Ella gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.

"It was my fault," Cogsworth said tragically. Some of his tears had begun to fall and he quickly dabbed them with a handkerchief. "I had decided to stop at a tavern on the way home to grab a few drinks and play cards. I drank and stopped paying attention to the time. It was long passed nightfall before I returned home. If I had been smarter and less selfish she would still have been alive."

"Cogsworth, that's not true," Ella insisted, squeezing one of his hands with both of hers. "You could not have known. Besides, Fate cannot be changed. Look at that hunter who attacked Belle and Adam. When he fell from the tower and did not die, Fate was infuriated that he had not received his due payment. Then after he came here again he fell to his death from the window. He was predestined to die that way and postponing it a few weeks did nothing to change that it had to happen."

"That almost made sense," Cogsworth said, glancing up at Ella with the shadow of a smile on his face. "It is just hard to think that I may have been able to do something to prevent it. She was my world, and having her die was like letting myself slowly die."

"You loved her, didn't you?" the enchantress asked curiously. "That is what love feels like, isn't it? To have someone become such a part of your life that you are almost one person." Cogsworth nodded weakly. "You are lucky to have experienced such a wonder."

Cogsworth glanced up and was surprised to find a pain that matched his own behind Ella's eyes. "Have you ever been in love?"

"Some of us are not so blessed," Ella answered sadly.

"Someday you shall find a special man," Cogsworth told her confidently. "You will find love. You are an amazing woman, Ella, there is a man for you out there."

"Thank you," Ella said with a faint blush. "I would have loved to have met your wife. She must have been a wonderful lady to have earned the love of a man as good as you."

"She was amazing," Cogsworth agreed, also blushing slightly at Ella's statement. "I think she would have liked you. You two were very much alike. I think you could have been great friends."

"If she was anything like you then we would have been the closest friends."

Cogsworth sighed wistfully. "Elaine's favourite thing to do was to rise early in the morning and watch the sun come over the horizon. I like to think that after she died she went to the sun since she enjoyed its beauty so much."

"That is why you watch the sunrise every morning," Ella remarked in understanding.

"How did you know that?" Cogsworth asked in surprise.

"You are not the only one who rises early in the mornings," the enchantress replied with a sly smile. "Did you know the name Elaine means 'shining light?'"

"I didn't know that," Cogsworth said but a vague smile crossed his face.

"I am sure she went to the sun," Ella continued. "Her light added to its morning glow, and when you gaze at the sun in the morning I think she probably gazes back at you."

"Thank you, Ella," Cogsworth said, looking into the enchantress' eyes with all the sincerity his heart contained. "I couldn't have found a better friend anywhere."

"Nor could I," Ella replied.

Outside the chamber door, an eavesdropping Mrs. Potts smiled broadly to herself.


	14. Grasping at Closure

The castle was bustling with activity as the day of Prince Adam's return to the throne drew nearer. There was an enormous feast planned for that night, and later in the week Adam and Belle were to be married. Although it was common for the wedding to be a grand public affair, the prince had wanted a simpler day with only the castle's residents and close friends present. The festive banquet after would serve as the public occasion.

Cogsworth was running everywhere, trying to direct several projects at once, as was his custom. Ella, eager to assist, worked in various jobs as she was needed. After the evening meal the pair would return to Cogsworth's study and as the head of house navigated his way through piles of paperwork in preparation for the big day Ella would shares stories of her ventures in foreign countries.

"I have not been to London," Ella said one night. "What is it like?"

"Wet," Cogsworth replied with a laugh. "It rains a lot. It is also a lot more crowded than out here in France."

"Do you long to go home?" Ella asked quietly.

"A little," the head of house confessed, rubbing his brow tiredly. He scratched out a line of script before continuing. "I miss the smells and the sounds, but I like it here as well. Even though I have a difficult time here because my French is rather poor, I still enjoy my position here. How did you develop your French so well?"

"My father saw that I was trained to be multi-lingual from a young age," Ella replied with her careful plotted lie. "My family are the country's ambassadors and since I was to succeed him I needed to be able to commune with any other diplomats I should have to meet."

"So you speak many other languages?" Cogsworth asked in amazement. "How many?"

"Every common language spoken in the world," Ella answered. "I did not learn the smaller languages or the variant dialects, but I can comprehend about twelve major languages."

"Twelve!" Cogsworth gasped. "I'm astounded. I can hardly handle two."

"Your French is quite nice though," Ella commented. "Although you still speak through your nose."

"That shows how hopeless I am at linguistics," Cogsworth laughed. "I've lived in this country for over two decades and I still have not mastered the language."

"Twenty years?" Ella asked.

"Twenty-six years this harvest," Cogsworth answered. Ella stared at him silently, her thoughts rushing. How must it have felt to have carried this lost love within his heart for so long a time without someone to share it with? How had he survived being so in love with someone and having them taken away from him, leaving him with only a few memories and unrequited love?

Cogsworth looked up into the enchantress' eyes and a faint smile crossed his face as if he had read the questions in her mind. "These years have been long and dark without Elaine. There were many times I wished it merely to end so that I might see her again, but every time I heard her voice in my heart, urging me to not give up. I know I would be letting her down if I were to not keep fighting."

"She loved you very deeply to want you to continue living and find happiness again before your years are through," Ella remarked in a whisper. "She is willing to postpone your eternal togetherness so that you have the chance to live." Ella placed a hand on his forearm. "But you must first find closure about your past before you may make a future."

The enchantress watched as a tear fell from Cogsworth's face, staining the parchment beneath it. Shortly after several more follow but neither Ella or Cogsworth had moved or said a word. Cogsworth's shoulders shook as he withheld sobs and finally he whispered, "I miss her, so very much." Ella placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and Cogsworth buried his face in his hands, trembling as his tears fell.

That night Ella sat alone on the floor of her bedchambers. She stared deeply into the flames burning in the grate, preparing herself for what she was about to do. The fire illuminated her eyes as she fought against her mind to achieve calm. If she became too nervous she might lose control of the magic and kill herself. Even though she was immortal, sending her summons into the afterlife was a dangerous thing. One false word or move and her spirit could be trapped in the Otherworld for good.

Taking a deep breath, Ella closed her eyes and began muttering under her breath. The majestic words of her people's language rolled from her mouth and the air around her filled with tensed magic. Darkness and mist flooded the room and eerie voices whispered from the shadows. With a final, sinister word, Ella opened her eyes and gazed up at the being before her.

The woman appeared to be portrayed in black-and-white, her smoky form nearly translucent. Hair cascaded around her shoulders and seemed to flutter in a gentle breeze. Her eyes, breathtakingly blue amid her pale grey skin, locked onto Ella's with intensity enough to make the enchantress shudder in terror.

"Who are you?" the spectre asked, her voice echoing slightly through the chasm of the Otherworld.

"I am Tryamon, High Enchantress of the Dying Line," Ella answered, managing to stop her voice from shaking. "I have called you here because I need your aid, Elaine Cogsworth."

"My aid?" the spectre asked in interest. "How can an enchanter need my aid?"

"It is not truly I who needs your aid," Ella confessed. "It is your husband."

The spectre stared in shock. "My husband? What has befallen him?"

"He mourns your death daily," Ella explained. "It has been over twenty-five years and still he cannot bear to live with the fact that you were killed. His depression grows worse continually and I fear soon it may take his health. I need you to help him move on."

"Oh, my poor Tobias," Elaine's spectre sighed. Ella blinked in surprise, never having heard or even asked about Cogsworth's first name before. "I knew he would fare badly but I had hoped better than this." The spectre stepped forward. "I will speak with him. Thank you for summoning me, enchantress."

"Elaine," Ella added hastily as the spectre moved toward the wall. Elaine paused. "Please do not tell him that it was I who brought you here. He does not know that I am an enchantress and I would prefer it stay that way for now."

Elaine bowed her head in understanding and proceeded through the wall. Ella settled herself down, letting her mind focus on maintaining the link. She had to hold on to the Otherworld until Elaine had finished her work.

* * *

Elaine drifted through yet another wall, following the faint pull in her heart, and entered a shadowy bedroom. The window was thrown open, letting in a night breeze that the spectre could not feel. Cogsworth lay on his side in the bed, one hand resting on a portrait on the bedside table. Elaine sighed softly and moved to kneel beside the bed.

"Tobias," the spectre whispered. Cogsworth grumbled something in his sleep, his face winced in pain. "Tobias," Elaine repeated, brushing her hand against his face. The head of house started, yelling something as he did, and shot up in bed. He quickly rubbed his eyes and then glanced to his side. And saw Elaine.

Instantly Cogsworth's face paled. He backed away slightly and muttered something incoherent beneath his breath.

"Tobias, be still," Elaine pleaded. "It is only I."

"Elaine?" Cogsworth asked weakly. "It can't be."

"You cried to me in your dreams and I have come," Elaine said softly. She rose and perched herself on the edge of the mattress. "You needed me."

"This is impossible," Cogsworth said breathlessly. He reached forward to touch the spectre's face but his hand passed through her transparent skin.

"I am not a being," Elaine explained. "I am merely a shadow. My spirit given form so that I may travel to this world."

"I have missed you," Cogsworth said, his voice choked.

"I know, my love," Elaine replied. "I have seen you every morning watching the sunrise. I have seen your sadness. I only hoped you might have found happiness again."

"I am happy," Cogsworth protested. "I have a good job and I've made new friends."

"But you still cling to your past," Elaine insisted. "How can you move on if you live in history?"

"You sound like Ella," Cogsworth laughed.

"Who is Ella?" Elaine asked curiously. "Is it good to sound like her?"

"Yes, it is fine," Cogsworth assured her. "Ella is one of the workers here. She has become my closest friend these last few months. I don't know what it is about her but she is so easy for me to feel close to. I think it might be because she is so like you."

"Is she pretty?" Elaine pressed.

"She's quite beautiful, but in a unique way. She looks so different from anyone I've met. Her skin is darker than any I have seen, yet her hair is as white as snow." Cogsworth shook his head. "She is a foreign wanderer, but I know not where from."

Elaine pretended to be surprised as well, but she recognised the description as the enchantress who had summoned her. "Do you love her?"

Cogsworth looked hurt. "I could love none but you, Elaine."

"Tobias, I won't be hurt if you love another," the spectre said gently. "That's why I wished you to live on. I want you to find happiness again. I want you to love another, have many friends, a family, a life. You've never been given children, and I know how much you've always wanted that. How can you do so if you do not let me go?"

"I do not want to love another, Elaine," Cogsworth said with a sob. "You were the one I loved. I want nothing more than that."

"I am sorry that this is the way you feel," Elaine whispered, her misty eyes shining with diamond-like tears. "I want what is best for you. Maybe you should think of the same." The spectre stood and turned away from him.

"Elaine," Cogsworth choked. "Don't go."

"I'm sorry, I've tried my best but there is nothing more I can do." Elaine walked a few steps before stopping and turning back to face him. "Tobias, dear, you need to know that finding someone new to love won't be replacing me in your heart. It'll simply be making room for someone else. I can share. There is another who loves you and I hope you can open your heart enough to see that."

"Elaine, please, I love you," Cogsworth said desperately.

The spectre turned to the wall again. "I love you too. That's why I'm doing this." Without another word Elaine vanished through the wall. Cogsworth fell back into the pillows, crying softly.

* * *

Ella jumped with fright as the spectre glided back through the smouldering fireplace.

"How did it go?" the enchantress asked, concerned by the distressed look on Elaine's face.

"It could have been better," Elaine admitted. "I have never seen him like this, even after his parents died. I talked to him but I don't know if it will be enough to shake him out of this. I can't believe he took things this badly."

"He blames himself," Ella told her. "He thinks that by staying at the tavern to play cards, he is responsible for your death. That maybe if he'd have come straight home he could have stopped your murder."

"So that's where he was," Elaine said with a smile. "It seems right that he would blame himself, however. That's the way he always was. Cogsworth was always ready to accept the responsibility for anything." Elaine sighed heavily. "I only hope that what I said to him will bring him to his senses. I did the best I could, Ella."

"How did you learn that name?" the enchantress asked suddenly.

"He told me," Elaine answered, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "He talked quite fondly of you, Ella the servant girl. He calls you his closest friend and his sole confidant."

"He told you all that?" Ella asked in surprise. "Well, we have become very close friends. He was one of my first friends when I came to the castle and he has remained so for quite some time. I did not know that I was his closest friend however." Ella was embarrassed to feel a faint flush creeping up her neck.

"You love him," the spectre announced.

Ella stared at Elaine in astonishment. Her words were impossible; the enchantress had given in to her father's word. She was incapable of love and always would be. She didn't dare allow her heart to believe what the spectre had told her, she had been hurt enough already.

"Thank you for all your help," the enchantress said as if she had not heard Elaine.

"I only hope it works," the spectre answered. "Good luck to you, enchantress. Or servant girl. Whoever you are, I hope you find what you are looking for. Likewise, I hope my husband can find hope again. Please, try to help him. I would hate to see the rest of his life wasted away."

"I promise," Ella agreed.

"Thank you, enchantress, for this last chance to speak with my husband," Elaine added as she turned away. "I only hope it does what you planned." With that the spectre faded into mist and was gone. Ella released her hold on the magic and felt a great deal of her energy pulled from her body with it. Exhausted, the enchantress lifted herself into the bed and instantly fell asleep.


	15. Strengthening Friendships

When Ella awoke the next morning she still felt depleted. Grumbling wearily, she forced herself to get out of bed.  _I need to watch after Cogsworth,_  she kept reminding herself as she headed down the steps to the kitchens. Inside, Lumière was directing dozens of cooks as they prepared for the morning meal. Ella pushed her way toward the maître d'.

"Lumière," she called as she neared him. Lumière turned to her and smiled.

"Mademoiselle, I have not had the pleasure of seeing you in quite some time," Lumière said grandly. "Where have you been?"

"I have been helping Cogsworth," Ella replied, glancing around the kitchens. "Speaking of which, do you know where he is at?"

Lumière frowned. "I don't. He hasn't been down here yet this morning. We just sent Chip up to see if he was still in bed. I doubt that's where he is, haven't know him to sleep in a morning yet, but it was worth a try,  _non_?"

" _Merci_ ," Ella said quickly. As she turned to leave the kitchen door swung open and Chip entered, followed quickly by a very dishevelled Cogsworth.

" _Mon dieu,_ " Lumière breathed. " _Mon ami,_  what happened?"

Cogsworth was in the process of tying a ribbon around his ponytail and did not immediately answer. When he looked up everyone was surprised to see dark rings under his eyes and an oddly distracted look on his face.

"Sorry," Cogsworth said when he noticed everyone looking at him. "Overslept a tad." He glanced around the kitchens. "Ah, Lumière, glad you managed to get things ordered without me. Well, it seems I am not needed in here any longer. I'll be in my study finalising the seating arrangements for tomorrow." Cogsworth quickly turned around and walked straight back out of the room.

"What in heaven's name...?" Mrs. Potts asked, stepping up to stand beside Lumière.

"He seems a bit –  _lost_  – this morning," Lumière commented.

"Perhaps I should go with him," Ella suggested. "You know, keep an eye on him. Be sure that he is well."

"That sounds like a good idea," Mrs. Potts agreed. "Keep a close eye on him. He trusts you, maybe you can get him to tell you what's wrong."

"I'll try," Ella said with a nod. She quickly exited the kitchens and hurried up to Cogsworth's study. At the door she knocked lightly and heard Cogsworth shout in surprise.

"Who's there?" he asked nervously.

"It's Ella," the enchantress answered. "May I come in?"

"Oh, Ella, yes, of course," Cogsworth stuttered. Ella opened the door and entered slowly. Cogsworth was sitting at his desk, twisting a handkerchief through his fingers as he watched her. Ella approached his desk and sat in a chair nearby, looking at him in concern, fearing that her experiment had done more harm than good.

"Cogsworth, are you unwell?" the enchantress asked carefully. "You look ill."

"I had a bad night," Cogsworth answered, turning his gaze towards his desk and not meeting her eyes. "Strange dreams that kept me up."

"What's the matter?" Ella asked, gently touching his arm. Cogsworth shied away from her touch, a look of pain on his face. "This is more than just a dream, isn't it?"

Cogsworth wiped his face with the handkerchief and leaned back in his chair. His face had paled and his features were drawn grimly. "It's nothing, just a bit of silliness really."

"Cogsworth," Ella prodded sternly.

Cogsworth choked on a feeble laugh and glanced in her direction. "I'm afraid I've let you get to know me too well," he admitted with a faint smile.

"We all make mistakes," Ella laughed. "Was it something to do with your wife?"

Cogsworth looked up quickly. "How did you know?"

"I figured with how upset you were about it last night that it might have worked its way into there somehow," Ella said smoothly.

"You could say that," Cogsworth said evasively. He fiddled with his handkerchief and cleared his throat a few more times before continuing. "I can hardly believe it myself, but I think she visited me last night."

"A blessing," Ella stated matter-of-factly. Cogsworth raised an eyebrow in confusion. "That is what my people call it when visions of the dead come back to us. They come in our times of greatest need to give us encouragement and advice."

Cogsworth looked at her, an almost impressed look on his face. "Yes, I suppose that is what kind of happened."

"You needed guidance so she came to you to help you find the truth," Ella prompted.

"Yes," Cogsworth said with a nod. "In fact, she told me almost exactly the same thing that you had beforehand. That I must move on and make another life for myself before my days are through." Cogsworth sighed and leaned against the desk. "But I have made another life, haven't I? I moved to a new country and took up a new and prosperous career. I made new friends and became a different person."

"I don't think she meant it as you should entirely give up on your past life and start afresh," Ella sighed in exasperation.  _Some mortals are so helpless,_ the enchantress thought to herself as she rolled her eyes. "You simply need to reach an understanding with your past and continue life with the knowledge and experience you gained from your hardships."

"I can't let her go," Cogsworth said desperately. "I loved her too much."

"Twenty-six years is far too long a time to be mourning, Cogsworth," Ella said gently. "What you had is over, but do not grieve because it is over. Try to be grateful that it happened. Remember that some are not as fortunate as you, some of us will never get the chance to love as you did." As she said it a single tear rolled across her cheek. "Not all of us are allowed the chance to love."

Cogsworth looked up and was startled at the hurt in Ella's face. "Ella, are you all right? Have I upset you?"

"No, it's nothing you have done," the enchantress said, brushing her hand towards him as if to sweep away his worry. "I just long so fiercely for what you had with Elaine."

"You will find it," Cogsworth assured her, handing her his handkerchief. "You are young and beautiful and intelligent. Soon enough some bright young lads will seek your hand. Worry not, you have my word."

"If only it were so," Ella said softly, moving her gaze to the wall. "I am betrothed."

"Oh, Ella," Cogsworth said, placing a hand on her arm. "But surely the man cannot be all that horrible. You may learn to love him, as Belle learned to love the prince."

"I will not. He is a despicable man, full of greed and hatred and dark ambition. He cares for none but himself and I will become no more than a prize, a trophy for his display." Ella fought desperately against the tears burning her eyes and quickly dabbed at them with Cogsworth's kerchief.

"Ella, my dear, I am so sorry," Cogsworth said, tilting her face up so that she could see the sincerity in his gaze. "No one deserves such a fate, least of all as amazing a woman as you. If there were anything I could do to help you I would see it done."

The enchantress brushed the tears from her face and took Cogsworth's hand. "Thank you, Cogsworth. Your friendship has meant the world to me," Ella informed him, squeezing his hand affectionately.

"Ella, I must ask, if you are betrothed why are you here? Should you not be home preparing to be wed?" Curiosity burned in the head of house's eyes and Ella felt a smile touch her face.

"In my culture betrothed women leave home one year before their marriage to see other places," the enchantress said, hurriedly spinning a tale. "We travel wherever we choose, living off only what we ourselves bring. The eldest male member of our family, to ensure we do not come to harm, follows us the entire time. When the time for our marriage approaches the family member takes us home to be wed. It is a strange custom but I leapt at the chance of some last freedom."

"It has surely been longer than a year," Cogsworth pointed out. "You have been here for already ten years."

"True," Ella agreed. "When I slipped into this castle that night I had already been away from home for several months. After I had been caught in the enchantment my protector could not find me but still felt my presence here so he lingered in the nearby town in wait.

"When the enchantment had been lifted and I ventured to the next town out of curiosity he discovered me. He informed me that since my year had been interrupted by the spell that I was allowed to spend my last three months as I wished and then I must return home to be wed."

"But you have not aged yet your betrothed has," Cogsworth remarked. "Surely he will not wish to marry so much younger."

"He was already twenty years older than me when we were betrothed," Ella answered, this time honestly. "Age is of no concern to him. As I said, I will merely be a trophy."

"How wretched," Cogsworth said darkly. "When is your time through?"

"One week from today," the enchantress replied, her eyes beginning to burn once more.

"The day of the prince's wedding," Cogsworth breathed. Ella nodded glumly.

Suddenly a knock at the door made them both jump in fright. A timid voice called through the wood, "Ella?"

The enchantress smiled. "Yes, Chip?"

"Mama wants to talk with you. But don't worry, I don't think you're in trouble."

"Thank you, Chip," Ella answered, barely containing a laugh. "I'll be down in a moment."

"Okay," Chip said brightly and the sound of his hurried footsteps disappeared down the corridor.

"I should go," Ella said softly as she stood, Cogsworth following suit.

"Yes, go find out what you're not in trouble for this time," Cogsworth said with a laugh.

"Will you be all right?" the enchantress asked carefully, placing a hand on Cogsworth's arm again.

"Yes, actually I think I feel better now. Thank you for your company, Ella. You are a great help."

"Thank you as well," Ella returned. "You have become the greatest friend. I will never forget you." Ella handed him back his handkerchief and then quickly left. Cogsworth watched the closed door for a while before resuming his seat. He gazed down at his papers but could not will his mind to focus.

 _Maybe they were right, maybe I do need to progress. She is gone and nothing will change that, but I am not gone yet,_  Cogsworth thought, staring vacantly at the quill clutched tightly in his hand.  _I am not gone yet so why should I behave as if I am dead?_

* * *

Ella sat alongside Mrs. Potts with Chip on her lap as the wagon bumped its way toward Molyneaux. The enchantress' fear at returning to the town was building but Chip did a fair job at distracting her.

"I miss being able to blow bubbles," Chip complained to Ella. "I used to blow bubbles, but now when I try Mama yells at me. Huh, Mama? Course she yelled at me then too. I just can't blow bubbles without getting in trouble."

"Chip, would you be quiet before you talk the poor dear to death," Mrs. Potts said sternly. "Now, we're almost there so hold still for a moment, why don't you?"

"Yes, Mama," Chip said sullenly.

As the wagon pulled into the main road to Molyneaux many of the villagers looked up from their business with interested looks. Each of the horses wore a blanket bearing the royal seal, something that had not been seen in a decade. When their gazes drifted to the wagon's riders Ella saw many faces darken as they looked upon her. The enchantress held her head high and ignored the scowls.

Mrs. Potts pulled the reins and the horses halted, snorting in agitation. It had been so long since they had left the stables that they longed to do nothing more than run. Mrs. Potts stood and cleared her throat. As the villagers began crowding around the wagon Ella leaned to the elderly woman and whispered, "I have another matter I must attend to while we are here. I will return soon."

"Of course, dear, take your time," Mrs. Potts smiled. As Mrs. Potts began to read from the sheaf of parchment, Ella hopped down from the wagon bench and wove her way through the crowd. Many people shot disapproving glances at her, but since she had arrived with a royal seal none dared to harm her.

When Ella had escaped the bustling crowd she headed directly for the small cottage directly to the side of Gaston's old house. The enchantress wondered briefly if the villagers had discovered that he was not returning. Adam had seen that Gaston was buried outside the castle grounds but did not inform the village what he had done or where he now was. The prince had understood that defaming the town's idol would do little to gain their allegiance.

Ella knocked lightly on the door of the cottage. The door opened quickly and LeFou stared up at her in amazement.

"Ella, what in the world are you doing here? And in broad daylight," LeFou asked in shock. "Come inside, quickly."

"LeFou, it's all right," Ella assured him as he hurried her inside. "I'm here on the prince's orders. We are here to announce the prince's return to the throne."

"The prince?" LeFou gasped. "Gee, you mean the beast man really was a prince?" LeFou let out a whistle. "That's gonna upset a few men. They believed Gaston's stories–" The lackey paused as if he'd just realised what he'd said. "Gaston, is he -?"

"He is gone," Ella confirmed. LeFou bowed his head. "He fell from the window in the prince's chambers." The enchantress decided it best to leave out the fact that she had pushed him.

"Belle, is she all right?" LeFou asked carefully.

"She is fine, as is the prince," Ella affirmed. "I came here with their thanks."

"They know it was me?" LeFou asked in surprise.

"I told them," the enchantress admitted. "You did a good thing in telling me. I was able to help them. You are a hero, LeFou, and you deserve to have people know that, even if it is just Belle and Adam."

LeFou blushed brightly and an embarrassed grin dominated his face. He shuffled his feet and mumbled that he didn't deserve anything like that.

"Nonsense," Ella said, placing a hand on the little man's shoulder. "You saved the prince's life and Belle's freedom. You deserve to have the whole country know your deeds. However, Adam doesn't wish anyone to know about Gaston being there so only those at the castle know what you did."

"As long as Belle's okay that's enough for me," LeFou said modestly, cheeks still flushed richly.

"She was completely unharmed," Ella told him again. "They actually sent me to give you this." Ella handed him an elaborately decorated envelope. LeFou took it curiously and opened it, drawing out a letter written in curving calligraphy.

"I can't read," LeFou confessed, eyes downcast.

"Neither can I," the enchantress said casually. "It is an invitation to the prince's wedding. They wished only to invite their closest friends. Belle requested specially that you be there. It is in seven days time."

"Golly, they want me there?" LeFou said in disbelief. Ella nodded, pleased to see happiness in the lackey's features. "Yeah, okay."

"Perfect," Ella said with a smile.

"Um, do you think they'd mind," LeFou started, blushing again as a small smile lifted his cheeks, "if maybe I brought someone?"

"Like who?" Ella asked interestedly.

"Well, actually there's a girl I started courting a few weeks ago," LeFou said, pride glazing his face. "Just a few days after Gaston left. Claire. We've gotten rather close and I plan on asking her–" LeFou stopped, rummaging in his pocket. "I want to ask her to marry me." From his vest pocket he withdrew a simple golden band.

"Oh, LeFou that's wonderful," the enchantress said in ecstasy. "I'm so happy for you. I'm sure they won't mind if you were to bring her. Belle will be so happy when she hears."

"Gee, I haven't asked her yet," LeFou said nervously.

"I'm sure she'll say yes," Ella said positively. "You're such a great man, LeFou. She should be wise enough to know that."

"Gosh, thanks, Ella," LeFou said, slightly unaccustomed to receiving compliments.

"Well, I should go," Ella said, glancing out the window. "We have to return to the castle soon. There are plenty of things that still need to be done. It was wonderful to see you again and I hope I'll see you at the wedding."

"Goodbye, Ella," LeFou said as she rushed out of the door. "See you soon."


	16. The Wedding

Ella glanced over at Cogsworth as they both worked desperately on assembling decorations for the coronation the next morning. The entire castle had been working feverishly to have everything ready for the first major day, while also beginning the preparations for the wedding three days afterwards.

As Cogsworth yelled out directions to passing servants he continued to work at arranging chairs in one of the many ballrooms. Ella felt a smile pull at her face, but within she felt something else. For the first time in her life she  _wanted_  someone to know who she really was.

Sure there were people who knew her true identity, Belle and Adam among countless others who had experienced her attempts at justice. Yet Ella felt an overwhelming urge to tell Cogsworth the truth. He had become her best and truest friend, and she longed to know if things would change if he knew who she was, what she had done to him.

Her questions, however, were to go unsolved. Her bargain forbade her from telling anyone that she was an enchantress. He could never know, and she would never know what it felt like to have a friend she held in complete confidence.

Cogsworth noticed her attentions and smiled briefly at her before returning to his work. Ella felt her happiness return. Since their talk Cogsworth had taken on a complete change in perception. Suddenly he was calmer, full of life, and seemingly more cheerful. Apparently he had taken her and Elaine's warnings to heart, and the change had been remarkable.

Ella glanced around at all of the servants, all of whom regarded her as a friend, and felt a surging joy build up within her. She realised that she didn't care about earning the love of a man anymore. She had the love of her friends, and loved them in return; that was all that mattered to her now. Things may not have worked out as well as she had hoped, and she still had not been able to escape her father's deal, but in a sense she had proven her father wrong. She did love; each and every one of her friends had earned her heart. That was all the knowledge she needed.

"Ella, could you come help me with this?" Cogsworth shouted to her from across the ballroom. The enchantress smiled and hurried towards him.

The coronation came and went splendidly and without incident, except for one duke who drank far too much wine and laughed wildly at the escargot on his plate until he had to be escorted to a room where he could sleep off his drunkenness. As soon as the coronation had finished the servants moved on to the preparations for the wedding. The altar was set in the very ballroom where Belle and Adam had first danced, in memory of the special day. Everything had been readied so far in advance that the day before and the morning of the wedding the servants had very little to do. Ella spent the day before learning a strange card game with Lumière, Babette, and Cogsworth, who surprisingly joined in and played, a peculiar behaviour for him as Lumière was stunned to announce.

The next morning, Ella spent most of her time with Belle, readying her for the wedding. Belle looked resplendent in a simple gown of white, her hair pulled up and laboriously curled. She wore a necklace that her father had brought to her, the same necklace her own mother had worn to her wedding. The bride-to-be quivered with anticipation as she stood before the mirror in her old room, Ella standing beside her. Mrs. Potts and Maurice had left momentarily to settle some final arrangements, leaving the friends alone.

"You look beautiful," Ella said sincerely, brushing a loose curl back into place. "I dearly hope I will be able to stay long enough to see you wed."

"This is your last day, isn't it?" Belle said sadly. "Why today of all days?"

"Fate works in cruel ways," Ella answered. "But know that no matter what, I will be watching over you. Adam wasn't the only one with an enchanted mirror. If I am taken away from here before the ceremony is through, I will lock myself in my bedroom and watch you through the mirror. I will be there, Belle."

"I shall miss you terribly," Belle said, hugging the enchantress tightly. "I wish you didn't have to leave us."

"So do I," Ella said, trying vainly to suppress her tears.

A knocking at the door drew the two women apart. Seconds later Madame de la Grande Bouche strode in, followed by Mrs. Potts.

"Let's make sure our bride is ready to go," Madame said with her usual overly large amount of bravado.

"Ella, dear," Mrs. Potts said behind the bustling woman's back. "I think Cogsworth has been looking for you. Last I saw him he was near a mental breakdown in the ballroom. You might want to find out what he wanted, he seemed rather insistent on needing you."

"Thank you," the enchantress said and quickly took her leave. She raced down to the ballroom, knowing that the wedding would begin within minutes. Inside she found Cogsworth shouting hysterical commands to the servants as they scurried past him. Ella smiled at the familiarity and strode across to him.

"Cogsworth," Ella said tentatively. The head of house turned in surprise. "I was told you were looking for me."

"Ah, Ella, yes I'm glad you found me," Cogsworth said, a sigh of relief buried in his voice. "I was afraid you had gone already."

"I wouldn't have left without saying goodbye to you," Ella said with a smile.

"Yes, well," Cogsworth stammered, blushing. "I know you'll be leaving sometime today and, well, I just wanted to give you something. To remember me by, I suppose." From within his pocket Cogsworth withdrew an ornate golden pocketwatch on a fine chain. He handed it out to her.

"Oh, Cogsworth," Ella said, her voice thick with emotion. She took the pocketwatch and examined its detailed covers, before she threw her arms around him. Cogsworth stood in confusion and shock for a moment before he hugged her back, a rare smile crossing his face.

"Thank you so much, Cogsworth," the enchantress said as she finally pulled away. "For everything. I will miss you." Without thinking Ella swooped down and lightly kissed Cogsworth's cheek. When she stood again and caught the surprised look on Cogsworth's face her jaw dropped in shock.

Any apologies were interrupted by noises coming from the doorway. The pair turned to the doors and saw that the castle's residents were beginning to file in and fill the rows of chairs. Ella spotted LeFou and, seizing the chance to leave the awkward scene behind, hurried over to him.

"Ella," LeFou said happily when he saw her.

"I'm so glad you made it," the enchantress said.

"Oh, Ella, this is my fiancée, Claire," LeFou said, gesturing to the woman beside him. She was a pleasant looking woman with wide eyes and a shy smile.

"It's nice to meet you, Claire," Ella said with a comforting smile.

"Thank you," Claire answered. Her voice was quiet but seemed full of giddy anticipation. "It's nice to meet you too. LeFou has said lots about you. Good things, of course."

Ella smiled. "Well, I don't mean to rush but I really must be off. I have a few things that must be attended to before the wedding starts. It was good to see you again LeFou, and it was a pleasure to finally meet you, Claire. Hopefully I'll have the chance to speak with you later."

Ella hurried off through the crowd to the doors, checking to see that nearly everyone had entered. As soon as everyone had finally been seated Ella closed the doors and settled herself into a chair along the back. Belle had wanted her to walk in the ceremony but Ella had feared she might been drawn away before the wedding had begun or even in the middle of it.

The priest stood at the altar reading over the papers once more. A hush fell over the room as a side door opened and Adam entered, dressed in his finest with his long strawberry-blonde hair combed back into a ribbon-tied ponytail. Walking behind him was Cogsworth, proud as a peacock with his place of honour. The prince took his place to one side of the altar with Cogsworth floating behind him.

Suddenly the doors at the back of the aisles opened to reveal Belle. There were several audible gasps and sighs as she stepped forward and took her father's arm. Lumière followed behind Belle, carrying her train with his usual grin pasted on his face. The trio proceeded up the aisle and the guests stood respectfully as they passed.

At the end of the aisle Belle kissed her father's forehead and he handed her off to Adam, tears sparkling in his eyes. The prince escorted Belle to the top of the steps and they stood, arms still linked as the priest began the ceremonies.

Ella watched with teary eyes as the opening was read, when suddenly she felt a light jerk in her abdomen. Gritting her teeth, the enchantress forced all her concentration in fighting it.  _Just a few more minutes,_  Ella pleaded inside. The pulling subsided for a moment.

When the rings were called for Chip entered the room in a ruffled suit, riding atop Sultan. It had been the only way the child would agree to being a ring-bearer. The dog trotted up to the altar and Chip handed a little velvet pouch containing the rings to Adam. Then Sultan turned away and trotted over to sit in front of Mrs. Potts, allowing the elderly lady to pull her son onto her lap.

As the ceremonies continued Ella felt yet another tug inside her chest. "Not yet," Ella whispered, shutting her eyes and focusing her attention on fighting her father's power. A full minute passed before the sensation lifted and Ella was able to open her eyes.

"Stop being foolish, Tryamon," a dark voice hissed in her ear. Ella twitched in fear and turned to find her father standing behind her, face twisted in a scowl.

"Father, what are you doing here?" Ella whispered in surprise.

"Coming to ask why you are  _still_  here," Cyrix said angrily. "You gave your word, Tryamon. You wouldn't dare go back on your word."

"Of course not, Father," Ella said, gesturing for him to be quieter. "If you'll allow me only a few more minutes, my friends are being wed."

"I will settle for your foolish nonsense no longer!" Cyrix said fiercely. "You will come with me now."

Suddenly a loud gasp sounded, causing both immortals to look up. Belle had glanced back and, on seeing the enchanter, had let out an all-too-audible gasp. Instantly every gaze in the room followed Belle's until all eyes were on Ella and her father.

"Now look what you've done," Ella growled. "You couldn't wait for just a few minutes so I could enjoy my last free moments before you dominate my life. Give me a few moments' rest and then I will do whatever you please." The enchantress turned to the priest and gestured for him to continue but her father interrupted.

"You're making a spectacle of yourself, Tryamon. Come with me quietly before I am forced to use other means," Cyrix said menacingly.

"I was making no spectacle of myself until you arrived," Ella said, jumping to her feet. Before she knew it she was shouting. "I always do well until you interfere. You can't do anything besides make my life miserable, can you?"

"Tryamon, stop this at once!" The enchanter's face had darkened horribly. "I tire of your insubordination. Ever since you first came to this damned mortal world you have done nothing but challenge my authority. I only hope this marriage will break you of your defiance."

"Nothing will break me," Ella said sharply. "I will resist you for the rest of my days. I will never let you forget that you tore me away from everything and everyone that I loved. That I loved…" The enchantress trailed off, glancing down into her clenched fist.

Opening her hand, she saw the golden pocketwatch still sitting in the palm of her hand. With a faint smile, Ella turned it over a few times and then opened it. To her surprise she found something engraved on the inside of the cover. Ella felt tears come to her eyes. Filled with a sudden and unexplainable daring, the enchantress looked up squarely into her father's eyes.

"You will not take me," Ella said powerfully. "I will defy you this one last time and then you will never bother me again."

"Fool, you gave your word, you can do nothing to escape this now," Cyrix said with a sinister laugh. "If you are foolish enough to go back on your word I will see that you are kept somewhere where your imagination will be given plenty of ideas for tormenting you."

"I will not marry Alkyl," Ella shouted at her father, her face twisting into a grin. Closing her eyes, the enchantress clasped her hands before her breast and began chanting in the dark language of the immortals. Her entire body began to glow, almost as if lit from within, and her feet slowly lifted from the ground and she settled to hover several feet above the ground. As he listened to her words, Cyrix's face suddenly filled with fear. He rushed towards her but a field had formed around her and denied him entrance. No matter how desperately he tried, the enchanter could not reach Ella.

When at last her words finished the air in the room seemed to thicken, full of magic and anticipation. Ella opened her eyes, ovals of the purest silver amid her dark skin. A triumphant smile crossed her face.

"I, Tryamon of the Dying Line, do hereby relinquish!"

The enchantress threw her arms open and a sudden current of silver light seemed to flow from her chest and float towards the ceiling. It collected in a cloud above the gathered crowd until finally the last of it left Ella's body. The cloud burst, raining the gathering with silvery droplets. Cyrix emitted one last scream before he disappeared in a haze of mist.

And Ella collapsed to the floor in a lifeless heap.


	17. Heart in a Pocketwatch

"Ella!"

The shout echoed from several mouths at once, but despite his age and size no one got to her side faster than Cogsworth. He fell to his knees beside her, brushing her hair away from her face. Creases had appeared around her eyes and mouth, making her seem so much older than she had before, but her face was relaxed as if asleep.

"Is she all right?" Adam asked, stooping down next to Cogsworth, Belle directly behind him.

"I don't know," Cogsworth said, getting slightly frantic. "She doesn't seem to be responding." Adam moved around and grabbed one of Ella's hands, placing his fingertips against her wrist with his eyes closed tightly. Cogsworth reached for her other hand and with a start saw that his pocketwatch was lying open in her fist. The words he had had the castle blacksmith engrave into the inside cover stared up at him.

_I Will Never_   
_Forget You._   
_Please, Don't_   
_Forget Me._

Cogsworth's breath caught in his chest. He snapped the watch shut and then closed Ella's fingers around it, holding her fist tightly in his hand. He gazed down at her unmoving face, mind grappling with what had just happened.

An enchantress! The very thought blew his mind. How could his dear friend have actually been an enchantress? He wondered vaguely if she was  _the_ enchantress, the one who had cursed them all. It seemed ludicrous, but then so did everything that had just happened. A dark skinned man had appeared from nowhere and, by their conversation, Cogsworth assumed that he was Ella's father, coming to fetch her home for her wedding.

Then the strangest thing of all, that display of what could only have been magic.

And now here she lay, calm as death. Perhaps she really was... Cogsworth shuddered away the thought. It was impossible. Ella couldn't be dead. This couldn't happen to him again. First his wife and now his - well, his best friend, at the least. Cogsworth felt his eyes cloud with tears and for once he didn't bother to fight them.

Adam looked up at Cogsworth, his eyes distant. "I don't feel a heartbeat." Belle gasped and Adam immediately stood and took her in his arms. Belle sobbed wildly against his shoulder and even the prince shed tears as he stroked her hair comfortingly. All around the castle's servants turned to each other for comfort, except Cogsworth, who refused to move from Ella's side. Clasping her hand around the watch in both of his, he pressed her still warm fingers to his brow, letting his tears fall against her skin.

"Please, Ella, don't leave me," he whispered to her. "I can't lose you as well. I need you. Please, Ella, I–" Cogsworth paused and took a deep breath. "Ella, I love you."

Cogsworth brushed his lips against her knuckles and then pressed them to his eyes. His tears streamed the length of her fingers and dripped onto her face. The once exuberant atmosphere had slipped into an air of sadness as friends clung to each other for support as they let their grief be known.

A gentle hand rested on Cogsworth's knee and without looking he grasped it, thankful for the consoling touch. The fingers tightened around his and a thumb rubbed against the back of his hand.

"Cogsworth?"

Cogsworth blinked a few times to clear his eyes and glanced up. His gaze was met by a pair of half-opened black eyes, filled with curiosity. Cogsworth almost couldn't get the word from his mouth.

"Ella?"

Ella looked at him in confusion. "Cogsworth, where am I?"

"Oh, Ella," Cogsworth breathed. He scooped her into his arms and held her tightly. Ella weakly drew her arms around him, taking comfort from the familiarity of his presence. Cogsworth's tears continued to fall, but now from unexplainable joy. "I was so afraid I'd lost you."

"Where did I go?" Ella asked, bewildered by all the attention. She glanced over his shoulder and saw everyone staring at her in amazement and cheering. Shouts echoed around the room as the servants began pointing at her and calling to the others.

"She's alive! She's  _alive_!"

The cry resounded from every person in the crowd until Ella's frustration and confusion grew to an unbearable level. She pushed away from Cogsworth and looked directly into his face.

"Cogsworth, what in the world happened here?" she asked severely. The head of house looked taken aback.

"What do you mean, what happened? Don't you remember?" Cogsworth asked in return.

"No, the last thing I remember…" Ella trailed off as she looked down into her hand. She pressed the small clasp on the side and watched the cover pop open. She stared intently at the words engraved into the gold.

"Don't forget me," she whispered, running her thumb over the grooves. "My father." In a rush the images crashed over her mind, making her gasp in their intensity. Still shots of her father's fury, of her defiant face as she cast the releasing spell, of the magic flowing from her body until all strength had left her. A last fleeting image of her father, screaming in rage and agony danced before her eyes before her memory slipped into darkness.

"I'm free," she murmured as the realisation hit her. "I'm free of him."

"How?" Belle asked, speaking up for the first time. "You said it was binding, that nothing you could do would free you from your bargain."

"Not now," Ella answered, beginning to rearrange her emotions and allowing her business-like nature take over once more. "I will explain it all later, but for now I think we have more important things to deal with. Belle, Adam, I'm so sorry that this had to interrupt your wedding. Please, accept my apologies."

"Of course," Belle said, swooping down to embrace her. "I'm just so glad you can be here to celebrate with us."

"So am I," Ella said sincerely. "But there will be nothing to celebrate if I keep interrupting. Hopefully I have not done too much damage."

"Nonsense," Adam said and Ella was delighted to see a smile on his face. "We shall simply start from where we left off." The priest, by now very bewildered, nodded his approval.

"Good, then please, let's continue. I promise I will interrupt no further," Ella said. She rose to her feet with the help of Adam and Cogsworth, and the latter sat beside her protectively as the wedding resumed. The vows were exchanged, the rings were given, and finally, Prince Adam and Belle were married.

* * *

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Cogsworth asked. He and Ella were sitting alone in his study that night. Ella had promised to tell everyone the truth in the morning, but first she wanted to tell Cogsworth everything in private. He was her best friend and she owed him that much.

"I couldn't," Ella admitted. She stared into her teacup as she stirred it thoughtfully. "It was part of the deal my father and I made."

"You told the master and Belle," Cogsworth pointed out, sounding rather hurt.

"No, I didn't," Ella said quickly. "I swear it. The bargain forbade me from revealing to anyone that I was of magic, but Adam already knew it because he recognised me and he must have told Belle. I could tell no one."

"You couldn't have asked the master to tell people?"

"Unfortunately not. If I had asked him to then it would have been my way of notifying people. Therefore the magic prevented me from doing so." Ella sighed. "The only way people could have found out would have been if Adam had told them of his own free will, which he is too honourable to do without my consent."

"Yet if you had consented he would have been unable," Cogsworth said questioningly, trying to grasp the concept.

Ella shook her head. "No, it never would have made it that far. I would have been unable to even consent it."

"Sounds complicated," Cogsworth said, followed by a discontented snort.

"Deals in the immortal world are sealed with magic, making it completely impossible to dishonour our word." Ella stopped to sip her tea. "It definitely makes people think twice before agreeing to a silly wager."

"It even affects bets?" Cogsworth asked in surprise.

"Of course, anything that requires bargains and agreements are sealed in magic. And if the loser does not honour their end of the deal then their souls are thrown into a very unpleasant and prolonged torture."

"How awful," Cogsworth shuddered. "Lumière would have been dead ages ago if we settled bets like that. Was that what you were destined for?"

"Only if I had refused to marry Alkyl, my betrothed, before the end of today," Ella countered.

"Ella, it's far past midnight," Cogsworth said. "How is it that you are here and fine?" He paused and then added cheekily, "Or is being in my presence that torture you spoke of?"

"Hardly," Ella scoffed. "You're starting to sound like Lumière with your wise comments."

"Gods above, have mercy and kill me now," Cogsworth laughed. Then his face cleared. "Honestly though, how did you escape this seemingly inescapable marriage?"

"I relinquished," Ella said, her voice barely above a whisper as she stared into the depths of her cup. "A fate only a handful of immortals have ever chosen, and none of whose choice led to a desirable future." Cogsworth's brow furrowed with curiosity and confusion. "I cast a spell on myself to relinquish my body of all traces of magic."

"How did that release you from your betrothal?"

"The man I was to wed was from a noble line, the Dying Line, the same line I am from," Ella explained. "To keep the line pure, the men of the bloodline can only legally marry an enchantress from the same line. By forfeiting my magic I lost the hereditary magic of the bloodline, therefore making me an illegal match."

"But losing all your power, almost your entire life, that must have been a drastic decision. How long did you contemplate before deciding?" Cogsworth asked, picking up his forgotten teacup and taking a sip.

"About ten seconds," Ella replied. Cogsworth choked on his tea and looked up in surprise. "Before that moment I never would have even dreamt of giving up my immortality. To an enchanter, the ability to live through anything is a born in necessity. The very thought of losing my immortality used to send chills up my spine. It still does, and I'll admit I'm rather nervous about this all. I'm not sure I like this idea of growing old and dying."

"Being old isn't all that bad," Cogsworth said slowly. "Except you move a little less quickly. But dying, I've no idea yet, and when I do I don't think I'll be able to tell you."

Ella laughed. "That is true. I can already feel the effects of age catching up to me."

"Oh honestly, Ella," Cogsworth sighed. She glanced at him and once again he noticed the lines that had appeared in her face. A sudden idea crossed his mind. "Did this event age you?"

"Not necessarily. It simply took away my eternal youth. Also, time passes in this world more quickly than where I am from, so while as an enchantress I was twenty-one, here as a mortal I am – thirty-four, I think." Ella rubbed her eyes and took another drink.

"Ella, what changed your mind?" Cogsworth asked suddenly. Ella looked up in confusion. "About losing your immortality."

"You did," Ella admitted. Cogsworth looked stunned. "With this." From inside a pocket, Ella drew the golden pocketwatch. "I had come to this world searching for the love of a man, but I found something even more wonderful. The love of friends. In that moment this watch reminded me of that love. Now I only hope I made the right decision." Ella rubbed her eyes again. "I think I might be tired. Perhaps I should go to bed." Ella stood and started for the door.

"Ella," Cogsworth said, jumping to his feet. Ella stopped and turned to him. The head of house's face reddened and he diverted his gaze. "Sleep well."

"You, too," Ella said gently. She turned away again and stepped through the door. As she made to close it she heard a whisper from inside the room.

"I love you."

Ella smiled and closed the door until the space between it and the frame was merely a sliver. "I love you too."


	18. Epilogue - Seven Years Later

Ella looked around the corridor scattered with anxious people. It had been nearly twenty years since she had first set foot in this castle and enchanted the residents. It had been more than seven years since she had returned to the castle in need of their aid. Seven years since she had given up her magic and her immortality to remain in the castle forever.

When Ella had first relinquished she had been worried that perhaps she had acted rashly. No other enchanter who had relinquished had been able to find happiness before death had consumed them. And Ella didn't regret her decision in the slightest.

Ella glanced once more around the hall crowded with people. Each of them was part of her family whether they were related or not.

Sitting on the floor next to the large door directly across from Ella, with his back to the wall, was Lumière, his arm was thrown casually around the waist of Babette. Their now two-year old daughter, Esmeralda was asleep across their laps. Lumière and Babette had been married for a year, as soon as Babette had recovered from the surprise pregnancy, but they were still as wild and childish as always. Esmeralda looked almost exactly like her mother with a narrow figure and curling brown hair, but she had inherited her father's roguish charm. Ella knew that this little girl would grow up to be quite a handful and she didn't envy her poor parents.

King Adam was pacing unceasingly in front of the door, wringing his hands behind his back as his gaze continually twitched from the door to his children. In the centre of the corridor Chip, who had just turned thirteen a few weeks prior, was entertaining the six-year-old prince, Vincent, and his twin sister Genevieve with a thrilling story about pirates. Not far away Maurice was showing an invention to his three-year-old grandson, Paul, who was applauding and giggling wildly as the toy soldier marched around in circles.

Ella glanced next to her at the most important part of her life. Cogsworth was standing beside her, a calm smile on his face. His brown curls had been streaked with grey near his temples and a few more lines appeared in his face but he still seemed as young as the day they had been wed. His hand was clasped tightly around the hand of their four-year-old daughter, Elaine. Elaine looked a lot like her father, except for the electric blue eyes that had earned her her name. A sudden gurgling noise brought Ella's attention back to the present and she began rocking from side to side, whispering quietly to the dozing infant Charles perched on her hip. Charles, barely a year old, had somehow inherited his mother's appearance, with brown skin and black hair and eyes. The infant grunted sleepily and pressed his face into her shoulder, grasping the collar of her dress with a pudgy hand.

"I'm worried," Cogsworth said suddenly. Ella hastily placed a finger to her lips and pointed at Charles, who had just drifted back to sleep. "Sorry," Cogsworth whispered, carefully eyeing the sleeping child, but Charles just shifted slightly, burying his nose into the hollow between Ella's shoulder and collarbone. Cogsworth smiled.

"You were saying?" Ella asked quietly.

"I'm getting worried," Cogsworth started again in a hushed voice. "She's been in there for a long time, much longer than usual. And it's gotten awfully quiet. You don't think something's gone wrong, do you?"

Ella reached into her pocket and pulled out her pocketwatch. It opened with a click and Ella glanced at the time. A scowl crossed her face. She brushed her thumb over the words engraved on the inside of the watch cover before closing it and placing it back in her pocket.

"It has been quite a while," Ella agreed. Her face creased with agitation and Cogsworth placed a hand on her back comfortingly.

Time continued to stretch on as the anxiety in the hallway among the parents grew. Esmeralda eventually woke and went to join Paul in playing with the soldier. Babette and Lumière were holding a whispered conversation where they sat, eyes on the king. Adam's face had slowly blanched and worry lines had blossomed on his brow and around his mouth. He was unable to even look at the door any more, keeping his gaze on the floor.

Ella's legs finally grew tired and she was forced to sit down, setting Charles carefully in her lap without waking him. Cogsworth sat down next to her and Elaine curled up against his side, yawning luxuriously. Cogsworth took Ella's hand for support and his thumb rubbed against the golden band around her finger, spinning it around like he always did when he was agitated. The pink stone continually caught the light as it emerged on the top of her finger, sending little glints of pink light reflecting onto Cogsworth's face.

Suddenly a pained gasp from beyond the wood was interrupted by a piercing shriek. Adam froze in his pacing, turning to the door and staring at the wood that kept him from the room. After a few more minutes the wailing rose in pitch and then slowly silenced. Everyone rose to their feet expectantly and even the young children glanced at the door.

The door opened and Mrs. Potts appeared in the frame. Her face was red and she was sweating, but she smiled broadly.

"It's a girl," she announced. Adam stared at her blankly for a moment and then suddenly leapt into the air, yelling joyfully. He turned to Maurice and swept the older man into a tight hug.

"It's a girl," Adam repeated cheerfully. Then he released Maurice and turned back to Mrs. Potts. "What about Belle? Is she all right?"

"She's fine," Mrs. Potts assured him. "She's rather tired but perfectly healthy. You can come in now if you like." Then she returned to the room.

"C'mon kids, let's go see your baby sister," Adam said, shepherding his three children into the room in front of him with Maurice's help. Everyone else trailed in afterwards and crowded around the bed.

Belle lay back in the pillows, looking exhausted and with her face covered in sweat, but she was smiling nonetheless. Cradled in her arms was an infant girl, her face still red from screaming. The wisps of hair that lay flat against the top of her head were strawberry-blonde and her half-closed eyes were a brilliant blue.

"She looks just like you," Belle said softly to her husband, who was hovering next to her with a giddy smile on his face.

"What should we name her?" Adam asked as he traced a gentle finger along the infant's ruddy cheek.

"Alexandria!" Genevieve called out and Paul echoed an agreement.

"Alexandria?" Adam inquired, raising an eyebrow at Belle questioningly.

"That sounds lovely," Belle agreed. "Princess Alexandria."

Ella beamed as talk broke out among the gathered crowd. All the anxiety had dissipated and a joyful easiness had spread over them all. Ella looked around at all of her closest friends; Mrs. Potts who had her hands resting protectively on the shoulders of Chip, Lumière carrying Esmeralda on his back with Babette loyally at his side, Adam and Belle with their children gathered around to gaze at the newest addition.

Then Ella surveyed her own family. Her ageing husband who seemed younger than ever, smiling as he lifted their little girl up to look at the baby. The sleepy boy who had finally woken and was mumbling gibberish sounds into the noise of the conversations.

As Ella took in the beautiful sight before her, she felt her heart swell. This scene was worth everything she had given up to get it. She had always been afraid of death but she knew now that if she had missed out on this wonderful thing then even an eternal life would be empty. Happy tears filled her eyes.

Cogsworth glanced at her and sudden worry crossed his face. "Are you all right, my love?"

Ella smiled at him lovingly. "Yes, I am fine." She stroked her son's cheek and Charles gave her a toothy grin. "All is well. Actually, all is better than well."

Cogsworth smiled at her knowingly and put an arm around her shoulders. Together they stared at the wonderful view before them. Ella sighed with contentment.

This was friends.

This was family.

This was love.


End file.
